Unlucky
by Angela6257
Summary: Bad things come in threes, or so they say. How many bad things can happen to the gang before they put it all together? And just how bad will it get? Someone's life may hang in the balance before it's over.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: This fic has been brewing and stewing around in my head now. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I've enjoyed thinking about it. :)**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I promise to put Kensi and Deeks and the whole team back as soon as I'm done playing with them.**

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><p>Kensi Blye turned over with a stifled moan, reaching out blindly to try and shut off the infernal noise that had jolted her awake. It took three tries before she was able to find her alarm, and by then she was too far awake to turn back over and ignore it. Just as well. Carpooling with Deeks even if just occasionally meant an attendance record that was hardly spotless. He swore morning waves were the best and she had no knowledge base with which to argue, so she usually just went along with him. If nothing else, watching Deeks surf in the gentle sunshine of a California morning was a sight to behold indeed.<p>

Thinking of Deeks reminded her of the night before, and she pulled herself out of bed and padded her way into the living room. Blearily she peered into the still-dim living room, curtains pulled against the sunlight. Yep, there he was, one arm hanging over the end of the couch and the other buried somewhere in the cushions, and a ragged mop of blonde hair dispersed crazily all over one of her best pillows. And was that…yes, if she wasn't mistaken there was pair of panties laying on the floor, a tiny bundle of black lace laying perilously close to Deeks' outstretched fingers. She silently cursed her lack of discipline when it came to handling her laundry, and then hurried to retrieve the panties before Deeks woke up. She wasn't sure if they were clean or dirty, so just to be on the safe side she tossed them into her hamper before bustling to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

Once the smell of brewing coffee began to waft through the air, she took a deep breath then made her way back to the living room. "Deeks", she said, voice low. "C'mon, wake up." But he didn't, so she repeated his name twice more with no success.

"Oh, for the love of…" she muttered, finally reaching out to shake his shoulder. But before she had done much more than touch him, he'd somehow grabbed her wrist and spun himself around on the sofa, her legs tangled and tripping her up so that she ended up on top of him. Pushing herself up on her elbows, she looked down at him with her heart pounding, surprised to find herself panting a bit. It had all been so fast, and she'd been startled. That was surely the only reason to find her herself reacting so strongly. It couldn't be the way she was draped across him. Couldn't be. His eyes were still closed, and she wondered if he was in the middle of a nightmare.

"Deeks?" she asked, trying to retrieve the wrist he still grasped. "Are you… wake up!"

His mouth opened a bit, and then he snored so loudly his entire body vibrated. She realized he was faking it and wriggled vigorously, trying to free herself from the couch. "You lowlife, perverted, scum-sucking jackass."

He laughed then, blue eyes opening with far too much awareness for someone who'd just been awaked.

"How long have you been awake?" she questioned him, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

"Long enough," he answered, grinning wickedly at her. "What exactly was it you came in here on stealth mode to retrieve?"

"None of your business."

"C'mon, Princess. It had to be something good." He moved slightly to a more comfortable position, the very picture of affability. "Could it be your journal? I'm sure you had a few interesting observations about last night's karaoke event to record. Maybe it was my manly singing or the daring way I rescued you from that Marine at the club.."

"Rescued?" Kensi scoffed. "Whatever. That was just a sweet kid who'd had a few drinks too many, and if he was in the mood to serenade me then that was perfectly…"

"Abysmal. The word you're looking for is 'abysmal'." If anything, his smile grew broader. "Kid couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. But he had definitely had a few too many."

"You've got no room to be talking there, Deeks." She tried to push herself away but found that with the way she was sprawled across him, she had little room to maneuver. "We all had a few too many, including you. Which is why you spent the night on my couch. And which explains our present situation."

"I thought our present situation was just because you can't keep your hands off me." His eyes grew smug. "But back to the issue at hand. If it isn't your journal, then it must be something else you didn't want me to see. Something you don't want to mention. Perhaps one of your…unmentionables?"

Her expression changed slightly, lips tightening just a fraction, but it was enough. One brow rose, his expression just as victorious as his voice. "A-ha! That's it!" He pulled slightly and she found her face drawing closer to his, breaths apart as he stared into her eyes. "Spill it, Fern. Was it lacy or tiny? Or…and please God let this be it…lacy AND tiny?"

His expression changed suddenly as she managed to move a knee into place, threatening to hurt him. Really really hurt him. She used the distraction to push herself up, his grasp loosening. "How about we discontinue this discussion, or you start reconsidering any future romantic plans? At least, any plans within the next two weeks."

"Done," he said cautiously. She got up, then allowed herself a tiny bit of a smirk.

"Get up and get a move on. We've got to be at work in half an hour."

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><p>The coffee in Kensi's kitchen hadn't helped much. Both partners were still feeling the aftereffects of a night spent 'bonding' with the team, and the decision to make a stop on the way was both mutual and swift. The only discussion was in regards to where to find the best donuts in town versus the best cup of coffee. Deeks finally gave in to Kensi's sweet tooth, and she compromised by allowing him to choose the donut shop. They pulled up in front of the type of mom-and-pop shop that Deeks favored, but Kensi sat in her seat for a moment, looking around cautiously.<p>

"What?" Deeks asked defensively. "I respect my trade craft. I haven't been here in a while."

"How long is a while?"

"A month or so. At least. Maybe more. Or maybe slightly less. I know it's been a couple of weeks since…lessee, I was surfing that one day, and the waves were spec-tac-u-lar, and I wanted to celebrate the moment by…"

With a frustrated sigh, Kensi opened the door and got out. Facing armed gunman couldn't be any worse than listening to an extended Deeks-style spiel, at least not until she had a cup of coffee and a donut in her hands.

Ten minutes later, paper sack in hand, Kensi took a deep blissful breath before getting back in the car. Mood already improved before she'd taken a bite, she looked at Deeks curiously. "Not hungry?"

He shook his head, amused at his partner's never-ending love for all things sugar. "Not all of us need sweetening in the morning, sweet cheeks. Some of us are already sweet enough."

Kensi snorted inelegantly, then sank her teeth into the first donut. She moaned aloud, a prolonged sound of pleasure and satisfaction, never noticing her partner's brief wince or deep breath. "Now I'm ready to start the day."

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><p>But the feeling of well being inspired by not one but two freshly made donuts didn't last long. Instead, Kensi found herself holding on to her stomach as the day progressed, wondering if she was still a bit hung over or if she'd caught some sort of stomach bug.<p>

"Something wrong, partner?" Deeks asked, smirking a bit. "Guess even donuts aren't enough to cure that kind of hangover."

"I'm fine," Kensi said automatically, trying to ignore the growing discomfort and pain. A slight frown passed over her face, one a less observant partner than Deeks might not have noticed.

"I don't think you are." He got up, concerned now, and approached her desk. "We've got crackers in the lounge, or maybe some Sprite…"

She shook her head, grimacing. Even the thought of food was enough to make her wish she was home in bed.

"Okay," he said, dissatisfied. He couldn't just let her sit there, face paling slowly as the color leached out of even her lips. "Why don't we get you up and over to the couch, and you can lay down for a bit and.."

"I'm fine," she said, teeth gritted. "I don't need any help."

Shaking his head, he squatted down so he could look her in the eye. "Kensi, you're clearly not fine. C'mon."

She swatted weakly at him, but she couldn't quite disengage herself completely and was too weak to fight him off. Somehow she found herself up on her feet before she knew exactly what was happening. Suddenly dizzy, she stumbled a bit.

"Whoa," he said, putting one arm around her waist. "Let's just do this together." Taking most of her weight, he half-pulled, half-carried her over to the sofa set in one of the mission's alcoves. Depositing her carefully on it, he sat back on his heels in front of her, looking her over critically.

"Kens, I don't think this is just a hangover. I think you may be really sick."

_I'm fine_ or _I'm okay_ or maybe even _I think you might be right is what_ she meant to reply, but before the words could escape her eyes rolled back in her head and she slid down off the sofa and right into Deeks' arms.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: I actually intended a lot more to happen in this chapter, but Deeks kind of took over. He can be really bossy sometimes.**

**Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing. I promise to put them all back as soon as I'm done playing with them. Except maybe Deeks...**

Under almost any circumstances, Deeks would be well pleased to find himself with a warm armful of beautiful woman. Under these particular circumstances, he was mostly just terrified.

"Hey, guys!" he yelled, carefully laying Kensi out on the floor. He grasped her wrist first, relieved to feel the strong steady beat of her heart. "A little help here?" Turning his attention fully on his partner, he laid the back of his hand against one cheek, unsurprised to find it more than a little warm. "I knew you weren't 'fine'. Damned stubborn woman."

The sound of running footsteps heralded the appearance of Sam and Callen. Callen squatted down just behind Deeks' shoulder, and Sam knelt down on the other side of Kensi's prone body. He touched two fingers to the side of her neck, then picked up her hand before looking over at Deeks. "What happened?" he asked gruffly, turning back to Kensi.

"I don't know." Deeks shrugged helplessly. "She was fine this morning…well, more or less, cause we were all kind of, you know, after last night…and then she really was fine because I fed her sugar monster, and then she was holding her stomach and looking kind of puny, and then she was…" He gestured toward her, "This."

"Well she's definitely not fine now. Pulse is weak and thready. She may be going into some kind of shock," Sam said grimly. He began tapping lightly on her cheek. "Kensi? Kensi, look at me if you can. Open your eyes and look at me."

"Weak and thready?" Deeks repeated blankly. "But she was just…" He reached down and grabbed her wrist again, only to find that Sam was right. "Literally two seconds ago her pulse was fine. She's sinking fast."

Behind him he felt a quiet huff of air as Callen stood quickly, voice terse as he called for an ambulance. But he couldn't turn away from Kensi, fearful that if he let go she would be gone. She might just slip away if he couldn't hold on strong enough, couldn't provide a lifeline, couldn't use whatever strength of will he had to keep her anchored here. Sam's voice droned on, asking for a response that Kensi couldn't give, but Deeks kept his eyes trained on Kensi's face and her hand within both of his, barely hearing anyone else in the room. And when the paramedics showed up within minutes, he had to be first coaxed by Callen and then physically pulled away by Sam before he'd let go of her hand.

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><p>"Something's just not right," Sam growled, pacing across the green-tiled waiting room floor. He'd been doing that since he'd arrived almost a full hour earlier. "No one goes down that fast with any kind of ordinary illness."<p>

Deeks shrugged, not even really listening. His gaze and full attention were trained on the swinging doors, waiting until someone, anyone, came out to tell them Kensi's status. That she was okay. That she was awake and smiling and ready to leave. He shook his head slightly, aware that he was beginning to feel a little foggy. The excesses of the night before coupled with the stress of the day were beginning to take their toll.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Callen was sitting near the door, his expression calm and body language relaxed. Only his eyes gave away the worry and fear he was currently feeling. "Are you saying she has some kind of super flu?"

"Something a little more sinister than that. C'mon, G. I can't be the only one thinking it could be…"

"Poison, Mr. Hanna?" supplied Hetty, entering from the hallway directly behind them. "It is always a possibility in our line of work, but let's not be too hasty. Jumping to conclusions during such a stressful time as this is neither productive nor useful."

"I'm not jumping to conclusions. I've seen it before." Sam paused in the middle of the room, turning to face Callen and Hetty, now seated together. His head cocked to one side. "You've seen it too, G. Remember when Agent Sullivan was working the Yedemsky case in Moscow, and they got to him as he was leaving the safe house?"

"I do," said Callen shortly, "but that doesn't necessarily mean that Kensi was poisoned too. Why don't we wait til the doctor gets here before we make any sort of diagnosis?"

Deeks had been letting the conversation ebb and flow around him, paying little attention to what was being said, but at the mention of the word poison he sat up a little straighter in the uncomfortable plastic chair. Was it possible Kensi had been poisoned? It couldn't have been anything she'd ingested last night, because they'd all shared appetizers from the same serving dishes. And the only thing she'd had today was a couple of cups of coffee and some…

"Donuts," he breathed aloud. At that, the low-voiced conversation in the room ceased, and everyone looked at him.

"Donuts?" Sam asked, moving to stand in front of Deeks. "Are you getting hungry over here, Deeks?"

"No, donuts. It's the only thing Kensi ate today. If she was poisoned, then it was the donuts. Or possibly the coffee. It all came from the same shop, and the evidence is still sitting there on the desk." He looked up, his eyes meeting Callen's. "Unless someone gets industrious about cleaning up."

Callen pulled out his phone, wishing not for the first time that they wore earwigs every day instead of just during operations. He hit Eric's number, then waited impatiently for the tech analyst to answer. "Eric, you and Nell go down to the bullpen and check out Kensi's desk. You're looking for a…" he looked questioningly at Deeks.

"White paper sack. White coffee cup with black writing on it."

Callen repeated the description, then hung up after Eric promised to call with results. Sam began to pace again, and the rest of them settled in for the wait.

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><p>Almost three hours later, a doctor in green scrubs entered through the swinging doors, and they all got to their feet and gathered around. Deeks was the last to approach. His feet were heavy and his pace slow, and he could feel his heart thundering in his chest. The doctor's expression was carefully neutral, but Deeks thought maybe there was a spark of something more in his eyes. Something a little sad, or maybe even regretful. Or was it worry? Fear? Mind-numbing terror? With a tiny shake of his head, Deeks moved forward a little faster. He was projecting his own emotions onto the doctor's countenance.<p>

"Thank you for coming in, Doctor Hoang," Hetty was saying. "Your experience and expertise are greatly appreciated. What can you tell us about Miss Blye's condition?"

"We have her stabilized now," the doctor said, face loosening slightly in an expression that might have been pure personal victory. Deeks wondered how long it had taken to stabilize Kensi, and how much of a fight it had been. "Her vitals are good, and her pulse is steady. Temperature is down to one-oh-one, and blood oxygen levels are almost within normal levels. Lung function is still less than fifty percent, but that's up from the twenty percent it was when she arrived so we still think…"

"Wait…wait a minute. Lung function?" The rest of the people in the room moved a little to hear him speak, but no one was more surprised than Deeks himself to hear the words come out of his mouth. He'd been completely mute since he'd brought up the donuts, frozen in the fear and confusion of Kensi's sudden illness and the possibility of foul play. "There was nothing wrong with her lungs. It was some kind of stomach thing."

"Detective Deeks," the doctor said almost kindly. Later on Deeks would take the time to wonder how the doctor knew not only his name but also his title. "By the time Agent Blye arrived here, most of her body systems had begun shutting down. Pulmonary was almost gone, brain function was lowered, and cardiac would almost certainly have been next."

There was silence in the room as they all absorbed that.

"But she's better now, yeah?" Deeks asked hopefully. "I mean, you said she's stabilized, so…"

"She is, but we still don't have an exact diagnosis. We don't know what caused this, and without knowing what caused it we don't have an exact course of treatment." The doctor's shoulders settled a little lower. "Nor do we have an exact prognosis. We don't know how long it will last or whether or not there will be a recurrence of the more serious symptoms."

_Or whether or not she'll survive._ He didn't say the words, but they could all see it in the set of his features.

"We've done an array of tests and assessments, and hopefully something will turn up soon. In the meanwhile, she's in ICU. You are welcome to visit her one at a time. I don't think she'll know you're there, but we do need to ensure the room stays quiet and calm. We can't risk getting her excited."

Everyone in the room looked at Deeks, but he shook his head and took a step back. "No, you…you all go first." He swallowed hard once, eyes skittering around the room before settling on Hetty's clear gaze. "I'll be here longer, so you go visit now." His voice was firm and even unspoken, the message was clear. _I'm not going anywhere._

And with that, he turned and walked away.

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><p>It was much, much later before Deeks found himself standing outside the shrouded cubicle currently housing his partner. The never-ending beeps and clicks surrounding him took him back to another time in ICU, when he'd awakened from a living nightmare only to see his partner sitting next to the bed, a look of strain on her face as she'd rubbed tiredly at her forehead. When he'd spoken to her, her entire face had lit up until she was practically glowing. He'd understood then that perhaps he meant a lot more to Kensi than he'd previously supposed. It wasn't just the recovery of a partner that could put that look in her eyes. Looking back, he thought perhaps their partnership…lips quirked as he corrected himself mentally…their relationship had taken a turn during that time. Sure, they'd continued with the teasing and the banter and even the occasional bad-tempered dig or real argument. But underneath it all, he'd known that Kensi really cared about him, really had his back. And as for his own feelings, well…he trusted her. And in his line of work, that was about as much as you could say.<p>

And he knew those feelings of trust were returned. He'd suspected it while meditating on the words "You'll get me back", words that floated continuously through his head for half a day. Those words that had almost driven him mad that afternoon. He'd told the team that she was waiting for them, but deep down he'd known she was really waiting for him. Waiting for him to fulfill the unspoken promise, the words he hadn't uttered but that had been present in his steady gaze. _Yes, I'll get you back._ But he'd known the real level of her trust the minute she stared into his eyes before placing slender hands in his while surrounded by lethal red beams. He'd have died himself before leaving her there to face the bombs alone. And nearly had, he reminded himself. A bruised skull and sore shoulder had been an easy trade-off for Kensi's life. He would have given up much more than that to get her back safely.

And right now, he'd give almost anything to trade places with her. He wished he were hooked up to machines and beeps and clicks, his own life on the line. It was so much easier to be lying on the bed than standing beside it. He pushed through the curtains and moved to the side of Kensi's bed.

She looked absurdly young lying there. Some nurse must have attempted to fix her hair out because it lay in perfect waves on each side of her face. There wasn't even a strand he could tuck behind her ear, but he reached out and smoothed it back anyway. His hand lingered near her face, tracing her eyebrow and ghosting down one cheek before stroking her jawline. She was a beautiful woman, but that was only part of the story. The other part, the amazing part, was the woman inside. The Kensi Blye that was brave and kind and loyal and strong and every other good thing Deeks could think of. But illness had robbed her of some of that strength, and her face had a vulnerability about it he'd only seen a few times. Times she'd been unhappy, talking about her father or her fallen partner or the fiancé who'd walked out on Christmas morning. He didn't want to see her that way. He liked to think of her as strong, willing and able to kick ass and take names at any time of the day or night. All he could think at the moment was that she looked about 16.

Pulling up the rolling stool stuck off in the corner over to one side of the bed, he sat down and reached between the bars to grasp Kensi's hand. It was completely lifeless and limp, but her skin was warm and soft. Taking some comfort as he stroked the back of her hand with his thumb, he prepared to wait out the night.

**Feedback and reviews are SO much appreciated. I read and relish every single one. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note: I had originally intended Kensi's poisoning to last only a single chapter, but as you can tell it got away from me. The plot should pick up a bit now.**

**Loving the alerts and reviews. Many many thanks!**

**Disclaimer: I STILL don't own them, but I do promise to return Kensi, Deeks, Eric and the team when I'm done playing with them.**

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><p>Technical Analyst Eric Beale was not happy.<p>

Normally he looked on his job as a puzzle, and he'd always been good at puzzles. He was very good at these particular puzzles. Find the car, track down the bad guy, hack the network, find the account, use the city's CCTV systems or his computers or the infinite resources provided by Hetty's seemingly equally infinite tech budget. Whatever it took to help the team.

But now he couldn't help the team, and this time it felt like failure on a more personal failure. This time it wasn't a case or a terrorist cell or a seaman in trouble. This time it was Kensi.

"C'mon, Barkley, open up." He banged lightly on the locked door to the chem lab. "I need to know if you've got any results."

But the door remained frustratingly closed, and Eric turned and leaned his back against it. This wasn't how he operated. He was in charge, his hands on the controls, his eyes on the big screen. He didn't like waiting on someone else to finish his work.

Nell had been an adjustment for him. Just her continual presence in his tech lab had been something he'd had to adjust to dealing with, and then there was the adjustment to some of her less savory habits, like finishing his sentences and co-opting his whistle. But the biggest adjustment of all had been discovering that somehow or another he'd developed feelings for his fellow analyst.

Now he was making another adjustment. Adjusting to the idea that he wasn't going to be the one to figure out the answers. Frustrated, he turned and banged on the door once more. "Barkley!"

To his surprise, the door opened this time and Chem Analyst Hatton Barkley's face appeared. He was a fairly nondescript looking man—medium height, sandy blonde hair, regular features—but his head for chemistry rivaled that of anyone else in the country. It was said that he'd been a wild card in his youth and a rogue agent in the not so distant past, or at least that was the scuttlebutt he'd gotten from _Abby Sciuto__,_ but in the six months he'd been posted to the Los Angeles branch, his work had been exemplary and his work ethic nothing but stellar. Eric rather suspected that Abby had been trying to put one over on him…something with which she usually excelled.

Barkley's face was pale and a little damp, testament to both time spent shut in the chem lab and his efforts during the afternoon. But there was an unmistakable smile that made even his plain features more attractive. Then again, Eric thought anyone with news that might help Kensi would seem like an angel at this point.

"Did you find anything?"

"Of course I did." Hatton smiled broadly now, a superior tilt to his mouth. "You should have known when you brought it to me, Eric. If there was something to find, I'll find it."

"Yeah, yeah," Eric muttered, too happy at the news to even feign any real irritation. "What'd you find?"

"I'd rather give that news to Hetty, or perhaps one of the field agents." A hint of anxiety in his voice now, the hint of a smirk gone completely. Eric tried to tell himself that Barkley probably just wanted to prove himself to the team, but a little niggle of irritation remained just the same. Establishing credit when a team member was down rated low on his own list of priorities.

"I can get it to them faster." Eric shook his head slightly. "But I'll make sure they know who found it. Now spill."

"First off, it _is_ poison."

Eric took a deep breath, exhaling it slowly. He'd been expecting it, almost, but it was still a shock. Barkley went on. "But a fairly simple cure. It looks like it's a synthetic neurotoxin. It metastizes with the victim's own nervous system, then uses the nervous system to travel throughout the body, shutting down systems as it goes. Wait too long and it's so long. Sayonara. Hasta la—"

"I get it," Eric said, cutting him off. "What's the antidote?"

"Strangely enough, it's a complicated version of hair of the dog." Barkley turned and walked back into his lab, and Eric followed. "Only another neurotoxin could travel the same pathways, undoing the damage done by the original toxin. So based on the toxicology report from Kensi's….Agent Blye's blood work, in addition to the samples left from the donut sack, I think I've developed the right course of treatment. Antivenom."

"Antivenom?" Eric repeated blankly. "You mean…venom venom? Like, from snakes?"

"A couple of snakes, a South American scorpion, and a particularly virulent tarantula found right here in sunny southern California. Some other substances to null the negative effects a bit, and a couple of other benign materials that are of benefit to the body." Barkley tapped away at his tablet computer, and a complicated formula appeared onscreen. "For what it's worth, this is the chemical make-up. But I suspect you're more interested in the hard copy, so to speak. I've taken the liberty of formulating this myself." He turned back to Eric, a tiny vial in his hand. "Here you go."

Eric took the vial, holding it up to the light. It looked innocuous enough, but he knew what a chance he was taking. "You're sure this will work?"

"Perfectly sure."

"Alrighty then." Eric pocketed the vial. Barkley was a brilliant chemist, he reminded himself. But just the same, he thought he'd talk this over with Hetty and Nell before it went any further.

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><p>The agents were all gathered back in the same lobby waiting for him when Eric strode into the hospital, Nell hurrying to keep up. He had the vial of Barkley's antidote in his pocket.<p>

"How is she?" he said as he approached the others.

"Not good," said Deeks, his expression one of unmistakable gloom. There was fear in his eyes, and the set of his mouth was grim. He hadn't left the hospital since she'd been brought in the day before. "She had two cardiac episodes today. If they can't figure out what's wrong with her soon..."

"They…don't have to. We did. Or rather, Hatton Barkley did. It was poison. The donuts were poisoned." Eric held up the vial. "And this is the antidote."

There was a moment of silence, a shared stillness of relief or perhaps even regret at the news that it had been deliberate, and then they went into a flurry of action. Nell and Sam and Callen all headed for the hallway, to search out the doctor and get things started. But Deeks stopped Eric before he could follow the others. He grasped Eric's wrist, holding it up so that the tiny vial of antidote was poised between them.

"You sure this will do it? She's pretty fragile right now, and I don't know how much more she can take." His voice cracked a little, and he cleared his throat before continuing. "So, I'm asking you, Eric, are you sure?"

"I am." They both turned at the gruff voice coming from the doorway. Eric supposed he should be surprised that even here, Hetty could make those sudden entrances, just as comfortable as if she was back at the mission. But nothing about Hetty surprised him too much anymore. Scared him, perhaps. But not surprised. She moved toward the two of them, and Deeks let go of Eric's wrist.

"I vetted Mr. Barkley thoroughly before his arrival at our office. When it comes to his particular area of expertise, he's one of the best minds in the country. And the work that he's put in for the sake of flag and country over the last decade has been nothing less than brilliant." Hetty moved between them, forcing Deeks to take a step back. Her voice lowered, and she looked up at him with what he thought was a compassionate glint in her eye. "I understand your feelings, Mr. Deeks. We all care deeply about Miss Blye."

Sure they did. But Eric was pretty sure none of them felt exactly the same way that Deeks did about his partner. Although there had been a few times when Callen's glance seemed a little warmer than called for… He shook his head. _Not the time, Eric._

"I'm going to go wait with Kensi," Deeks said, turning abruptly.

Left alone with Hetty, Eric turned and look down at her. She smiled enigmatically, then turned and made her own way slowly out of the waiting room.

Eric help up the vial, looking at it once more. "Wow. Way to clear the room, Eric. And now I'm talking to myself." He started forward, wondering where exactly the others had gotten to. "Guys? Hey, guys?"

* * *

><p>"Hey, Kens." Deeks kept his voice soft as he sat down on the stool and leaned over her bed, studying her face. Logically he knew she couldn't really have lost much weight in the 24 hours she'd been in the hospital, but she seemed less…substantial somehow. Her features seemed finer, more defined than before. Or maybe it was just the complete absence of any expression or emotion. Normally she was so animated. He could watch her for hours just to catalog the movement of her eyebrows or the gleam in her eyes or to count the appearances of those dimples. But for the last full day there'd been only the flutter of her heartbeat against his fingers as he held her wrist and the slow rise and fall of her chest. The doctors had come and gone and nothing had changed except the terrifying times when it had, when the alarms had gone off and the beeps changed to warning whistles and hospital personnel rushed in and pushed him out of the room.<p>

Those were the times he'd prefer not to think about. Not now, not when it was so fresh. Later on those times would live on his nightmares, he knew that all too well. They'd join a growing cloud of bad memories that included lasers and hospital parking lots and more explosions than he can count. But for now, he simply holds her hand once more, grateful to feel her skin warm and supple against his own.

"Eric's here, and they found something that's gonna fix you right up." He settled his chin against the raised bed rail, then reached out with his free hand to stroke her shoulder, thumb tracing the fine lines of her collar bone. "So…so you're gonna be alright soon. No more laying around in bed for you. I expect you to be up and around in no time, hassling me like you always do."

Dr. Hoang himself bustled in just then, the vial of antidote in one hand and a hypodermic needle in the other. He inserted the needle through the rubber of the vial's lid, extracting what he needed before pushing the needle into the port of Kensi's IV. Deeks was aware that the door opened behind him, the others filing in to Kensi's room despite any regulations or rules the hospital may have had regarding visitors in ICU. He supposed Hetty had probably squared things with Dr. Hoang. She and the doctor definitely knew each other outside of regular doctor-patient relations.

"We should see some results fairly quickly," said the doctor, not looking at them as he slowly depressed the needle. Deeks watched as the liquid seeped down the clear tubing into Kensi's wrist, drop by lifesaving drop. "The antidote should take effect about as quickly as the poison itself did, since it uses the same nervous system pathways. And we know the poison took a matter of an hour or two to disperse completely." He stopped as he finished with the needle, pulling it out and turning to the hazardous waste drop box. "There. That should do it."

"Doctor," said Callen, walking towards him with an open evidence bag. "If you don't mind…"

"Of course. I forgot who I was dealing with." Smiling fondly at Hetty, Dr. Hoang turned and dropped the needle carefully into Callen's bag. He turned and began looking at the monitors hooked up to Kensi, assessing pulse and blood oxygen and blood pressure. "It's a waiting game now, folks. We should know something soon."

Callen sealed the clear plastic then dropped it into a larger brown envelope, setting it aside and moving to a spot near the door. Sam began pacing again, and Hetty settled into a chair on the other side of Kensi. Eric and Nell sat near each other in the far corner of the room, and Deeks returned to studying Kensi's face, watching for the slightest hint that the antidote was having an affect.

The good doctor was right. It didn't take long. About an hour, maybe a little longer; Deeks wasn't eactly sure. First a faint wrinkle between her eyes, one he'd seen a thousand times before. It was her "I want a donut" or "Really? You just said that?" wrinkle. She took a slightly deeper breath, and her hand closed fractionally around his. "Kensi? Kens?" Deeks asked, getting to his feet. The others drew closer too. "Kensi, can you hear me?"

"Of course I can hear you. You're…practically yelling in my ear." Her voice was faint and soft, but the tone was unmistakably Kensi just the same. Deeks found himself sitting again abruptly although he hadn't intended to as his legs gave out completely. The others moved as well, relief rendering them all incapable of not moving or reacting in some way. Kensi's eyes opened slowly and she scanned the room, her expression unfocused and confused, before her gaze settled on Hetty at last.

"Is this a team meeting? Did I miss something?"

They all smiled then, breathing a little easier and even laughing quietly to themselves. Relief etched itself on each of their faces, worry lines smoothing out and eyes closing quickly before opening again a little brighter than before. Kensi herself sat up a little more, awareness increasing even as she winced at the soreness of muscles gone lax for so long. She rubbed tiredly at her temple, and Deeks thought her head was probably aching. Not surprising given the circumstances.

"No, Miss Blye, you haven't missed anything. We've all been waiting for you, actually." Hetty stepped forward to take Kensi's free hand between both of her own. "But now that we know you're on the road to recovery, perhaps it's time we got back to work. There is a certain poison case with which I believe we are all very interested."


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note: Thanks, as always, for reviews and alerts. I'd forgotten how much fun the feedback can be.**

**Chapters are coming fast and furious right now; I'm working hard to complete this before Christmas break ends next week. Deeks/Kensi centric chapter coming up swiftly. **

**Disclaimer: As always I do not own Deeks or Kensi or any of the team, but I do promise to put them back as soon as I finish playing with them.**

**Also, I just changed my pen name. Long story short, the old one was no longer appropriate, and while that hasn't mattered in a long time since I've started writing again I wanted something that felt a little more like me. More on my profile page if you're interested.  
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><p>"Deeks, do you have any idea what you're talking about? Any idea at all?" Callen's voice greeted her first.<p>

"Of course I do. You see, I am a man of cultured tastes. A renaissance man, if you will."

"I'm 'bout to put my renaissance foot up your renaissance…" Sam's mutter meant all three of them were involved in the discussion.

"Sam." Callen's voice was calmer than the other two, or at the very least than that of his partner. It was apparent to Kensi as she approached the bullpen that the argument was just about in full swing unless Callen managed to head them off. She stopped inside the hallway, leaning on one wall and eavesdropping shamelessly as Callen continued. "Deeks, are you really trying to say that being a man of cultured tastes explains your background knowledge of…"

"Windex, and yes I am. Windex cures everything."

"You can't honestly believe that." Callen's voice was incredulous.

"I can, and I do. If Sam would quit playing around with that ointment and just use a couple of squirts of that Windex I brought him, he'd be fine." Deeks' voice was verging on smug, and Kensi couldn't tell if he was serious or just messing around with Sam. Either way he was in dangerous territory.

"You expect me to squirt _chemicals_ onto what is clearly a serious injury based on your word alone?"

"C'mon, Sam. What have you got to lose? Another three layers of skin? Pffft. Besides, it's not just my word. I heard it from this old Greek guy." Deeks' voice lowered as he moved in for the kill. "It was several years ago. I met him in…"

Kensi decided it was time to intervene. "My Big Fat Greek Wedding," she supplied, stepping around the corner and into the bullpen. She smiled widely. "Hey guys."

"Kensi!" Callen was first on his feet. He approached her and gathered her up in a hard hug. "Welcome back!"

Sam got to his feet too, but his expression was confused. "Hey, Kens. When exactly did you have a Greek wedding?"

"Not an event. The movie." Kensi laughed lightly as she returned Sam's hug. "That's where Deeks is getting his inside information in regards to the many uses of Windex."

Deeks didn't get up to hug her, but the private smile he sent her way warmed her from the inside out. "Welcome back, partner. Glad you decided to join us."

Kensi made her way over to her desk, sighing happily as she carefully sat down. "It feels good to be back." She cast a sidelong glance at Deeks, aware that he hadn't stopped staring at her since she'd walked into the room. There might have been a spark of something in that steady gaze, a possibility she hadn't seen or maybe just hadn't noticed before. Or then again, maybe he was just feeling impossibly mushy due to her recent near-death experience. She decided now was not the time to think too much about her relationship with Deeks. She was still feeling the after-effects of the toxins and having been as sick as she'd been—sore muscles, headaches, dry mouth and dehydration, not to mention the occasional yet scary shortness of breath and rapid pulse. She physically just wasn't up to dealing with the kind of emotional overload that came with opening that particular can of worms.

But still…that something in his gaze drew her. She shook her head a little, avoiding those blue eyes for now.

"So, Sam, dare I ask just what sort of injury you have that Deeks is trying to clean and shine with…Windex?"

Sam sat back and crossed his arms, his brow lowering. Deeks and Callen looked at each other, manfully stifling their smiles. No one said anything.

"Really, guys?" Kensi sat back herself, shaking her head. She crossed her own arms. "You three are really going to do this to me on the day I come back? Come back, I might add, from almost dying after being poisoned?" She paused for dramatic effect. "By donuts."

"Ease up there, Meryl Streep." Deeks got up and strolled over to Kensi's desk, then eased one hip down. "It's a…guy thing. Guy code. Can't rat out a brother, yeah?" He turned to Sam, one fist extended. Sam rolled his eyes, but extended his own fist. But then Deeks turned and leaned down closer to her, whispering so that only she could hear. "No worries. I'll tell ya later." He was so close his breath tickled her ear, and every nerve ending in her body went on alert. A delicious chill eased down her spine as he continued. "Can't have my partner all upset on her first day back."

Kensi sat back so she could see his face, and smiled at him, eyes luminous. "There we go," he said, voice level now. "That's my girl." And with that, he got up and went back to his seat. Now Kensi's gaze followed him without cease.

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><p>Deeks kept a discrete eye on Kensi as the day progressed. He knew very well it was with great reluctance that Dr. Hoang had released her to return to work this early. He'd wanted her to stay in the hospital another 24 hours just to be on the safe side, and then a full week's convalescence at home after leaving. Deeks had been in Kensi's hospital room when the doctor had described all this to Kensi…and then he'd witnessed Hurricane Kensi's reaction to being told to lay in bed another full day and rest at home for a week after that. It had been nothing short of spectacular even if she hadn't been up to full strength yet. And Dr. Hoang had given in, albeit not all that gracefully. He'd made his displeasure abundantly clear, but Kensi had remained unmoved. Finally Dr. Hoang had left the room, but not without motioning Deeks to the hallway where he'd given a new set of instructions, and these instructions he intended to see fulfilled.<p>

_Keep an eye on your partner, Detective Deeks. I know she seems to believe herself some kind of superwoman who is impervious to harm, but she came very close to dying yesterday. She needs to stay quiet and calm for several days, with little excitement or physical exertion. _His eyes had bored into Deeks' as he made his point._ Unless you want to be tasked with finding yourself a new partner, you'd best take care of the one you've got._

He'd had a bad few days thinking about those words. He'd spent more time at Kensi's place than he had at the mission during the scant 3 days she'd given herself to recover. He'd brought her meals and watched her eat them, and he'd kept her inundated with liquids although he'd made sure to leave the beer at home. He knew she wasn't supposed to be drinking yet but even in her current state he wasn't certain she couldn't take him if she'd really wanted to. He _was_ certain that he'd be unable to force himself to fight her. She'd dropped off to sleep frequently at first with the ease of a convalescent, and he'd covered her with blankets to keep her warm. He'd carried and fetched whatever she'd needed, and made her oatmeal and warmed cans of chicken soup and other things that sounded like what a sick person should eat. And every single day he'd made sure to have at least one green jello cup somewhere in front of her when she woke up, with other flavors popping up throughout the rest of the day.

She hadn't referred to the jello cups at all, but towards the end of the second day he'd discovered that she was washing them meticulously clean, as if she was planning on keeping the cheap plastic bowls. It was a sentimental gesture for her, and he'd been unutterably touched.

Right now there was nothing sentimental about her. She was thumbing aggressively through the contents of a manila file folder, clearly unimpressed by the contents.

"This is it?" she said, sounding annoyed. "This is seriously it?"

"Kens, you can keep going through it, but nothing inside is going to change." Callen turned, meeting Sam's eyes in a meaningful glance before looking back at Kensi, schooling his features into something more noncommittal. He understood her frustration, shared it even. But although none of them had given up on the investigation, they had agreed to keep Kensi from getting involved, at least until she was back to full strength. Deeks had shared the doctor's warning about stress and exertion. "The donuts were poisoned. There were at least a dozen more in the display case that were also poisoned. The family who owned the store packed up and disappeared. We found several manifestos written by the father, who was apparently not only an anti-government conspiracy nut but also officially a serious whack job. There has been no trace of them since, and you were the only one poisoned. There was a one in a million chance that you'd get those donuts, but you did. So I guess you were just…"

"Unlucky?" Kensi snorted. "Story of my life. Have you seen some of the guys I've dated?" Deeks opened his mouth, one finger up. "Not a word, Deeks. Not. One. Word."

She slammed the folder shut, then started wildly as Eric whistled, her hand fluttering to her chest. "Wow," she breathed, panting a bit. "Go a few days without hearing that and it has a whole new level of intensity." She got to her feet, looking a little shaky, and Deeks glided over smoothly, taking her elbow and steering her gently towards the staircase.

"I'm not helping you," he said, eyeing her carefully.

"I didn't say anything," she replied. "And I'm not complaining. But I am fine."

"Okay."

He helped her through the middle of a trio of analysts coming down the steps, then placed himself between her and the railing. Just as they reached the top, there was a thunderous crash below them. They turned in surprise only to see Callen and Sam both laying at the bottom of the stairs, the three lab techs dispersed around them on the floor like bowling pins. The railing immediately above the first landing was missing, and when Deeks leaned over he could see it laying below the staircase.

"Sam? Callen? You guys okay?" Kensi's voice even sounded shaky now, and Deeks surreptitiously let his fingers trace down to her wrist. Her pulse was steady but too fast, and the doctor's words echoed in his head. _…best take care of the one you've got._ Kensi continued, "What happened?"

Sam sat up, shaking his head. He winced and held one hand to the back of his head. "I'm not sure. I grabbed the railing as I was heading up, and I guess it gave or something…"

"Or something is right," said Callen. "The railing came completely out of the stairs, and when you went down with it you took me along for the ride." He was holding his wrist carefully, and they could all see the extended swelling beginning to puff out around his watch. He removed it carefully and then breathed a little easier.

"Gentleman, I believe a visit to the infirmary is in order." Hetty's voice floated over from her office, where she was happily digging in her desk. "I'll bring my first aid kit."

Kensi relaxed against Deeks a little, letting him carry some of her weight. Perhaps a little more rest and relaxation might not have been such a bad idea, but she'd never admit it. She smirked down at Sam and Callen. "Guess I'm not the only one that's unlucky."

Deeks was looking at the remainder of the railing, wondering just how sound the entire structure was. He decided not to take any chances. "C'mon, funny girl, let's get you off this staircase before we find out how much luckier we can all get."

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><p>Half an hour later, they were all finally up in Ops via the little used back staircase leading off of the gym. Sam was holding a frozen gel pack to the back of his head and Callen's wrist was splinted, courtesy of Hetty. They were both sore but generally okay except for the extreme grumpiness that came from having their misadventures occur live in front of the entire mission staff. They both knew that after a couple of days of recovery time, the teasing was going to be unbearable.<p>

Or in Deeks' case, a couple of minutes of recovery time.

"C'mon, really? You managed to roll tape on me falling off a bridge over a canal in Venice which is, let's face it, _not_ close, but you are going to maintain your assertion that you have nothing on Sam and Callen falling off the stairs? When it happened right here in the middle of Tech Central? Really? Really?"

Nell and Eric looked at each other, rolled their eyes on cue, then turned back to Deeks and repeated, in unison, a strongly voiced, "YES."

"Man." Frustrated, Deeks turned and slapped both hands down on the lighted tactical table. "This should have been a golden opportunity for.."

"What, exactly?" Sam asked, lowering the gel pack and turning to stare threateningly at the detective. "What kind of opportunity? Tell us more, Deeks."

"For…um…well, I should have probably used a different word, like chance. It was a chance. That is…it was more like a..it was lucky." Sam raised the pack again and turned back to the big screen. Deeks grinned at his back. "Lucky indeed that there's no permanent record of you two flailing around before doing a swan dive down the stairwell." Sam's shoulders tightened, but other than that he didn't react to Deeks' final dig.

"Just keep your mouth shut," murmured Eric. "It's safer that way."

"Roger that." Nell cast a quick look at Eric before beginning the briefing.

"Ladies and gentleman, we have a case."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: You might say the plot thickens a bit here. The fun certainly does. Hope you enjoy!**

**As always, alerts and reviews are most gratefully appreciated. :)**

**Disclaimer: Somehow or another I still don't own anything or anyone. Promise I'll put them all back when I'm done playing with them!**

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><p>Nell Jones loved her job.<p>

Seriously loved her job.

With a scary high IQ and a confidence born from having a nurturing and supportive family, she could have done anything or gone anywhere or been anyone she wanted to, really. The world was quite literally her oyster. But she'd ended up in intelligence, where she'd settled in as naturally as if she'd been solving matters of national security her entire life. And some days it felt like she had been. But it was never a chore, and she woke up bright and early every morning happy and excited to be heading off to work.

There were some less pleasant aspects of her job, of course. Lying to her family was probably tops on that list. Every time she added bits and pieces to the legend she'd developed to keep her own parents safely in the dark, it still pinched at her heart a bit. She was honest by nature, and she supposed it was a good thing that she could count on one hand the times she'd been asked to don a costume. While she might long to be as glamorous and strong and...well, kick-ass as an agent like Kensi had to be, deep down she knew that she just wasn't cut out for that kind of work. Her strength lay in numbers and logic and codes and puzzles, and she really preferred it that way.

But at the moment, she wished she had more muscle.

"A little help here?" she yelled once more, banging on the door to the women's shower. She'd come down looking for Kensi, who'd been heading for the showers after her first workout since coming back to work. From the frown on the other agents' faces as they'd followed her out of the gym, she suspected Kensi's ash-pale face and colorless lips meant that she'd overdone the workout. They all knew that Kensi was supposed to take it easy, but knowing it and ensuring it were two different things.

Nell had had some paperwork for Kensi, papers that needed to be filed or signed or destroyed, all of which had to be gone through by the agent herself. Kensi had said she had a brief stop to make before hitting the showers. Nell had thought she looked like she was about to be sick, so she'd given Kensi a half hour before following her down. But the showers had been empty, so she'd turned around thinking she'd find Kensi already upstairs. A plan that had been derailed when she'd discovered the door was somehow locked from the outside, while she was most assuredly stuck on the inside.

Her phone had no service down here courtesy of the steel-lined walls, she'd assumed. The showers had been created so that they could quickly be adapted for quarantines and hazardous material containment and she thought they'd even been intended as possible bomb shelters. Right now it was mainly just an airless box that was becoming increasingly warm. Some kind of pipe somewhere must be leaking steam, because the temperature seemed to be rising steadily.

"Hey! Help!" She banged on the door again, although her lack of arm strength meant there was little sound. "C'mon, guys! Surely someone has to be wanting a shower soon. Don't you people work out?"

The sound of voices approaching had her going silent, straining to hear who was outside. It sounded like…

"Well I'm not sure I got around to thanking you, but please…know that I am very, very grateful. If it hadn't been for you, I don't know what I would have…" Kensi's voice filtered through the solid door to the shower room. Nell couldn't hear who replied, or couldn't understand. But she didn't really care anyway. All she wanted was her freedom.

Just then the door rattled. "Kensi!" Nell shouted. "I'm in here! I'm stuck!"

"Nell?" Kensi peered easily through the window set at the top of the door, something Nell had tried unsuccessfully to do since she'd found herself locked in. "What are you doing in there?"

Nell stared grumpily at the taller woman, wondering what it felt like to be taller than a Hobbit. "What does it look like I'm doing? I'm having a mani-pedi session with Beyoncé. Could you please get me out of here?"

There was another violent rattle at the door, then a series of shudders, but the door remained stuck.

"Nell, I can't get it open. I'm going to go get…" Kensi stopped talking, and the nameless murmur of her companion filtered through now. Then Kensi spoke again. "Okay, Nell, we're going to try something. I think we'll have you out shortly."

Nell listened closely, and heard what sounded like a hiss of air. One more shake of the door, and then it suddenly popped open. She took a deep breath of fresh, cool air, then stepped out into the corridor. Kensi took her wrist and unobtrusively checked her pulse, concerned at Nell's hectically flushed checks and shallow breathing.

"I'm okay," said Nell, waving her off. "It was just really hot in there." For the first time she noticed the man standing just behind Kensi's shoulder. "Oh, hello there!"

"Nell Jones, this is Hatton Barkley." Kensi stepped back to make introductions. "He works in the chem lab, and he came up with…."

"The antidote for the neurotoxin." Nell nodded at the man. "I remember the name."

"Well you should definitely remember it now. He had some kind of super duper version of WD-40 that he used to unstick the door."

Barkley flushed a little, and his voice was soft when he responded. "Oh, it was nothing, really. Just a little something I've been working on. Happened to have it with me. I must get back to my lab now, though" He smiled shyly. "Kensi..er, Agent Blye. Miss Jones." He nodded at them both, then disappeared down the hallway.

Kensi turned back to Nell. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Absolutely." Nell tucked her arm in Kensi's. "Just get me somewhere with some serious AC."

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><p>"This doesn't make any sense." Eric frowned at Nell several hours later. "There's no reason for that door to have gotten stuck. That shouldn't ever happen here."<p>

Nell sighed, trying not to get irritated. The event was long past, and she was ready to move on and try and get caught up on the work she'd missed while first being locked up in the showers and then enjoying the celebratory trip to a local restaurant Kensi had insisted on after freeing her. Their girls' lunch out had ended up taking the better part of the afternoon, and they'd both had a couple of drinks too many—something Kensi had also insisted on in order to celebrate the fact that they were both still alive. Nell had tried to reason with Kensi that she hadn't actually been close to death so much as close to having a good session in a sauna or a sweat lodge, but it had been to no avail. Drink had been ordered and served and then drunk. Or, in Kensi's case, thrown back. Nell was just glad that the drinks hadn't hit her as hard or as quickly as they had Kensi. She was sure the warmth she was currently feeling was just a remnant of sensation from her time stuck in the showers.

"Eric, I promise, it did happen. I wasn't imagining anything. If you don't believe me, ask Kensi. Or Hatton Barkley. They were both there."

"I'm not saying I don't believe you, I'm just saying it shouldn't have happened." Eric's frown deepened as he cocked his head sideways. "The humidity this close to the coast remains pretty constant, and the shower rooms aren't exposed to enough salt air to have that level of corrosion, so…wait. Did you say Hatton Barkley? What was he doing in the women's showers?"

"Don't be silly. He wasn't in the women's showers." Nell rolled her eyes and sighed loudly, mostly for dramatic effect. "He was walking in the hallway. He actually helped Kensi get me out."

"Gotcha." Still frowning a little, Eric turned back to his keyboard. Something was niggling at him, but he knew he had to let it simmer. Forcing it never worked, and it would come to him when it came to him. "Well then, so long as you're really okay, let's get back to work."

Nell hiccupped, and Eric looked suspiciously at her. She smiled broadly, then leaned over her tablet.

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><p>Deeks let out another disgruntled sigh. He'd allowed himself to get behind on paperwork, and due to their currently case-less status Hetty had decided it was time for him to catch up. Sam and Callen had been out all afternoon on what they insisted was a secret assignment. Judging by the gear they'd taken with them, Deeks thought it was more likely they were out on a boat somewhere, probably with a good supply of beer and a couple of fishing poles. Kensi had disappeared after a work-out that had clearly exhausted her. He'd thought maybe she'd gone somewhere to lay down, but a quick search of the mission had proven him wrong. He'd been coming back down to the bullpen to start a more thorough effort to find her when he'd discovered via a note left on his desk that she'd gone out for a girl's lunch with Nell. She hadn't come back yet, and so he'd been stuck there all by himself all afternoon. Not exactly his favorite way to spend the day. If nothing else, it meant he had to talk to himself.<p>

Just then, Kensi trailed in and threw herself into her seat, giggling. She flopped her purse down on top of her desk and smiled at Deeks.

"Hey."

"Hey," he responded. "Good lunch with Nell, yeah?"

"Very good. Very very very good." Kensi giggled again, causing Deeks to look at her curiously. She wasn't exactly the giggling type.

"Just how much fun did you and Nell have this afternoon?"

She looked over at him, sitting there all cute and stuff. Either the lack of food in her system or the medication she was still taking seemed to have weakened her resistance to alcohol, and she found her inhibitions were weakened as well. Only the certainty that she would wobble if she tried to make her way over to him kept her in her seat. "Oh, we had a…lot of fun."

"Yeah?" Deeks got up, brows raised. He sauntered over, clearly intrigued. "Clarify exactly what you mean by a lot. And I do mean in detail. Lots of detail. Oh, with pictures…pictures would be nice." He sat down on the corner of her desk and leered at her. "Pictures would be very nice indeed."

Kensi snorted inelegantly. "S'not gonna happen, Deeks. Even if there were pictures…and there aren't…I would definitely not be showing them to you."

"Why?" He grinned, remembering another time and another place. "Would they be the kind of photos that, a certain person finds them, and they end up on the internet?"

She grinned back at him. "Maybe." She reached out and let one finger trail gracefully down his thigh. At least, in her mind that's what she did. In reality Deeks manfully hid the grimace from the pain of her nail digging into his leg. Thank goodness he was wearing jeans. He had to stifle a laugh. He knew he should probably be unhappy that she'd had alcohol against doctor's orders, but the week was almost up, and besides she looked so beautiful sitting there looking up at him with pink cheeks and glowing eyes, all smiles and giggles. This was a Kensi he didn't see very often.

She pulled herself to her feet, looking down on him now. "You know, Deeks, you are awful…pretty. Or pretty awful." Giggling again, she wrapped both arms around his neck and leaned closer. He almost went down off the side of her desk as she kept going, and her body ended up splayed across him. "Hey, what'd you do that for?"

"That was you, Princess," he said, sliding both of them safely over onto the middle of the desk. "Did you imbibe a little too freely as you and Nell were having your not-photographed afternoon o' fun and frivolity?"

"Huh?"

"Never mind." He settled her a little more comfortably on his chest. "So, Kensi, what should we talk about now? Aren't there some deep, dark secrets you'd like to share with Uncle Marty? Because now is definitely the time to talk about it."

"Wanna know a secret?" She cocked her head sideways, smiling at Deeks in what she imagined was a sexy pout. In reality her eyes were half-crossed because she was so close to him.

"I do indeed, Princess. Lay it on me."

"You smell so good." She leaned in and sniffed like a dog, then licked the side of his neck. He wanted to laugh, but the warm slide of her lips near his ear had sent every nerve ending in his body tingling and the path of her tongue turned to fire. She laid her head on his shoulder. "Every time I smell you, I think of shunshine and the beach and salty ocean bear."

"Um..air?"

"Yeah, that." Because it was so convenient, she nipped the bottom of his earlobe with her teeth, but she was too far gone to appreciate the tightening of his shoulders or the single, hard, indrawn breath. "I just want to…oh…do stuff like that, 'most all the time."

"Princess, when you start spilling the secrets, you really start spilling the secrets." His voice was rough and low. "Better hope Hetty never finds out."

"Finds out what, Mr. Deeks?"

"Hetty!" Deeks stood quickly, trying without much success to get Kensi up on her feet. Or at least to appear to be up on her feet. He put both arms around her waist, but she still flopped sideways, her arms laced around his neck.

"Has Miss Blye relapsed?"

"Er…uh…" Deeks stammered, "She has..she was out to lunch, and I think something she ate…or possibly drank…didn't agree with her."

Hetty allowed herself a small smile. "I suspect it was the same thing that didn't agree with Miss Jones."

Just then the sound of someone singing loudly from the top floor floated down. Deeks frowned. "Is that…is that who I think it is?"

"Miss Jones? It is indeed."

"And what's that she's...is she singing…?"

"Well, she knows I have a fondness for the GaGa."

Deeks couldn't quite wrap his mind around it all. "But why is she singing?"

Hetty turned away to move back towards her office. "I believe you would call it a delayed reaction. Take Miss Blye home, please, Mr. Deeks."

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><p><strong>Hee! I had a lot of fun writing this one. Hope you enjoyed it just as much! :)<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: This one is all all Deeks, just about. I knew his chapter would be longer, and not just because I'm obsessed...er, like him a lot. He's especially hard to write for me, because he has such a strong distinctive voice and a lot of that comes from the nuanced performance of Eric Christian Olsen. So much of what makes Deeks sound like Deeks comes from ECO and not just the lines. So I hope I've done him justice here.**

**As always, thanks SO much for the reviews and alerts. Special thanks go out to _imahistorian_ for her AWESOME specific reviews that always always make my day, and to _SunnyCitrus10_ who messaged such a wonderful suggestion that I ended up reworking this chapter altogether. You guys rocketh muchly!**

**Included in this chapter is a slight nod (or homage, even) to another character I used to love and adore from another show many years ago. Bonus points if you figure out where and who!  
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**Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing and no one, and I promise to put Kensi and Deeks and the rest of the team back when I'm finished playing with them. Might have to maim someone just a bit first, though... :)**

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><p>LAPD Detective Marty Deeks had never had an easy life.<p>

His childhood had been dotted with happiness here and there—stolen moments that didn't involve his father or hitting or his mother in tears or himself with a bloody nose. But those moments had been increasingly rare as he'd grown older, until he'd been forced to put an end to the abuse with the business end of a shotgun. He'd been 11 at the time.

He'd muddled through that and a variety of troubles that had sprung up as a result. When you're the bad kid who shot his own father, the rest of the kids at school tend to fall into two camps: stay far, far away from the bad kid or prove your own street cred by beating up the bad kid. He'd tried to ignore the lot of them, but that hadn't worked so well, and within two years he'd developed a reputation as a troublemaker through very little effort of his own. But if nothing else, life with his father had taught him the value of keeping your head down and laying low, and by the time he'd entered high school he'd more or less made peace with the world. Good grades and good scholarships had gotten him through law school, but that hadn't been enough to settle his inner demons. And the explosion that had erupted when he'd thrown an attorney's paycheck and high lifestyle away to become a cop had been both unpleasant and unending. His mother still brought it up every time she saw him, which was just one of a myriad of reasons he avoided the small wooden house where he'd grown up and she still lived at every opportunity.

Becoming a cop had actually turned out to be a good thing. He'd taken to it like a fish sinking into water, able to take a deep breath and just be for the first time in his life. Undercover work had been his forte, which was not really a big leap. He'd spent most of his life trying to shed his family and his history and his reputation and himself at every chance, so stepping into someone else's life actually felt pretty damned natural. The other cops didn't like him much, but that also was something with which he was pretty comfortable. It didn't necessarily generate a lot of warm fuzzies, but those had been in pretty short supply most of his life anyway. Becoming a cop had given him peace and a sense of fulfillment.

Making the move to NCIS, now that was a whole different story. He'd been a bit jealous at first, jealous of the technology and equipment but mainly jealous of the camaraderie and the genuine caring evident between the other three. He'd imagined them as a complete unit, and nothing he'd seen in his first few weeks there had led him to believe he'd ever really be a part of things. Sometimes he still felt a hint of that outsider-ness now, because there was a shared history and a past that he didn't always understand. They had language and words and people in common that he didn't always get. But what he did understand and get was that these people genuinely cared about him, and although he might not ever be the center of things at OSP he was a part of the inner circle.

So even though his life had not been easy, right now it was pretty damned good.

In fact, the only real thorn currently in his side was sitting right next to him, snickering as she tried to touch or adjust everything in the car. She had apparently developed a few extra arms over lunch and many, many drinks with Nell, and all of them were trying to drive him nuts.

"Kensi, would you stop…Kensi, let that go right now or I'm going to…Kensi!" Her hands were everywhere, tuning the radio or flipping the turn signal on and off or trying to grab the steering wheel. He hadn't forgotten her threat to Ben Gay his shorts should he scratch her car, and he wasn't completely sure the fact that she caused him to do it would mitigate the consequences.

"C'mon, Deeks, I'm jus' tryin' to have a lil' fun." Her voice had gotten more slurred during the car ride home, and Deeks figured he had a half hour tops before she went down. He sincerely hoped he could get her home before that happened. And more importantly than that, he hoped he could get them both home before she caused him to wreck the car.

"Have all the fun you want, Kensi." He pulled her hand off the steering wheel with some difficulty. Even after having downed who knows how many cocktails at lunch, she was surprisingly strong. He placed her hand in her own lap. "Just do it on your side of the car."

"Not my side. Not your side. 'S nobody's side." Her voice lowered and her head swayed toward him. "Are you on my side?"

"Now, Princess, that's the kind of question we don't usually…OH." She'd reached out to grab the steering wheel again, or maybe the keys or the radio or whatever, none of which was important. What was important was that she'd missed, and her hand had dropped and closed instead on the inside of his thigh, very very close to…. "No, no, Kensi. BAD Kensi! Very bad Kensi!" His hand closed over hers, trying to slow those still-nimble fingers currently working their way up his inseam. "Hey! Driving here. Driving!"

With a bad-natured huff, she sat back in her seat, pulling her hand away. "Hmmph. You're no fun, Deeks."

He eyed her carefully, hoping she'd stay in her own seat for the rest of the trip home. "Yeah, I am so going to remind you of that tomorrow."

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><p>Several minutes later, they were pulling up outside Kensi's place. She'd managed to keep her hands to herself for the remainder of the drive, or mostly so. He hadn't complained when she'd adjusted the air conditioner vents or changed the radio station, figuring that was safer than her grabbing him again. After parking the car, he got out and moved around to her side of the car. But when he opened her door and extended one hand, she crossed her arms and sniffed.<p>

"Don't wanna."

"C'mon, Kensi, let's make this easy on ourselves." He tickled one side of her neck, then watched as she ducked away. "And by ourselves, I mean me. Let's get out of the car and head on in to the hacienda."

She shook her head mulishly. "Nope. Don't wanna."

Deeks took a deep breath, then had an idea. "Tell you what, Kens. If you'll come in right now like the good little girl you usually are, Uncle Marty will tell you a secret."

That got Kensi's attention. She turned to look up him, eyes brightening and head cocked to one side as she considered the offer, then she held out her hand. He grasped it and helped her out, not making a sound when she managed to step on his foot and elbow him in the ribs simultaneously.

It took both of them to get her up the sidewalk to her front door. He managed to fish her keys out of her purse and get the door open, then pulled her inside. As he turned to shut the door, she tugged herself free and headed towards the couch. He watched her, trying to gauge just how far gone she really was. Judging by her uncertain gait—she looked like a fledgling foal trying to gain its feet for the first time—she was pretty toasted.

Just then she stumbled into the end of the couch, tumbling over to land on it face down in a typically messy pile of laundry and sofa cushions. She was silent for a long moment, and Deeks was just starting to get worried when he heard her voice, muffled and low.

"Well, hello there, Mr. Couch."

He looked down and laughed, shaking his head, then moved forward to help her. Again.

With some effort on both of their parts, he got her turned over so that she was laying on the couch in a more natural position. She blinked up at him owlishly, then her expression crumpled and her lips drooped.

"Uh-oh. I know what that means." During his partially misspent college career, he'd seen this particularly transition far too many times. Deeks reached out and touched her chin lightly. "Happy Drunk Kensi is turning into Weepy Drunk Kensi. What's up with that?"

"Dunno." She batted his hand away, eyes beginning to well up. "Go 'way. I'm fine."

He ignored that for the lie that it was. That it always was. "C'mon, Kens. Don't do this to me now. Why don't we see if we can turn that frown upside down?"

"Why are you here, Deeks?" Her voice was suddenly and surprisingly lucid.

"Well, you had a few too many, and given the fact that you couldn't even stand up straight Hetty seemed to believe it was in the best interests of all concerned that…"

"No, I mean…" She gestured vaguely with one hand. "Why are you always here?"

His voice was soft and low, a small, tender smile on his face when he replied. "Where else would I be?"

Kensi gave a vaguely disgruntled sigh, and he realized she wasn't satisfied with his answer. So he took a deep breath. "Guess it's time for Uncle Marty to tell you a secret, yeah?"

"Uh-huh." She poked a finger out at him. "You promised me one."

He sat down on the edge of the couch next to her hips, then picked up her hand and held it in front of him so he could play with her fingers. He was sure this would be easier if he didn't have to look her in the eye. "Well, you see, this secret is more by way of a story. Sort of like a fairy tale. So we'll start it out traditionally."

"I know this part." She snuggled down in the pillows a little bit, smile playing about her lips and eyes half-closed. "Once upon a time."

"Yep. That's it exactly." He risked a glance at her, glad to see her eyes were clear now, even if they were still glazed over. "Once upon a time there was this guy. A regular guy, mostly, even if he did occasionally show flashes of brilliance." His lips quirked. "Let's call him…Deeks." Kensi snorted, but he kept his attention on her hand. "Now Deeks had things pretty well worked out. He liked his job, and he was good at it. And he thought he had things pretty well figured out."

"And then one day, in the middle of this job, he met a girl. Let's call her…"

"Tracey?"

"Nope. It definitely wasn't Tracey." She tried to pull her hand away suddenly, but he retained his grip, still weaving in and out of her fingers. "And it wasn't Kensi either." A bad-tempered yank now, but he managed to hold on. "Her name was…Fern. Princess Fern." Her hand went still again, and, satisfied, he went on.

"So anyway, there he was, working away at saving the world, or at least making his corner of it a little safer, when Princess Fern walked in. He wasn't expecting to see her, or any princess, at this particular place. It was full of dragons, you see. But Princess Fern charged right in, and Deeks was impressed. And a little suspicious."

"A lot suspicious," she whispered. "Admit it."

He shrugged. "Like I said, you don't expect to see many princesses in a dragon's den. So he wondered about her. A lot. In fact, you might say that he couldn't seem to stop thinking about her."

He heard a deep breath. "Bet she thought a lot about him too."

"Maybe she did. He'd be happy to know that, I'm sure." He leaned down now, elbows on his knees as he paused. He still held her hand between both of his, enjoying the softness and the strength of those long, slim fingers. He realized they were a reflection of her. "Did I mention she had a bangin' body?"

She chuckled out loud, unable to stop herself. "I don't think you did."

"Consider it mentioned. Anyway, Princess Fern put a little bit of a hitch in Deeks' plans. Not to mention her good buddy whose name was..." A brief pause. "Shrek. Between the two of them, Deeks ended up having to make a new plan. But as it turned out, Princess Fern and Shrek had a plan of their own, and their plan worked surprisingly well, considering it didn't involve Deeks."

She made a grab at his thumb as he stroked her wrist, holding his hand steady now. "They had a great plan."

"Sure they did," he said agreeably. "Of course, it wasn't really their plan. It was actually their boss's plan. Her name was Empress Ninja Lady." Her fingers loosened, and he resumed that slow, simple caress over the soft skin on the inside of her wrist. "And after the dragons were defeated and everything was finished and the chips had settled appropriately, then Empress Ninja Lady came to see Deeks. And she made him an offer he couldn't refuse."

He cocked his head, forcing himself to be truthful even if it did spoil the line. "Okay, technically that's not true. Let's call it an offer he didn't want to refuse. He liked Shrek and Empress Ninja Lady and even this cab driver named G. But what he really wanted was the opportunity to...to spend a little more time with Princess Fern. Because even though he'd only seen her a few times, he could tell that she was pretty special. Not to mention totally hot." Her fingers remained still, so he went on. It was difficult, being honest like this. The whole of their partnership-slash-relationship, they'd never been completely honest. The closest they'd ever come was when she'd believed he'd been fired, and to his everlasting regret he'd had to shut her down, watching hurt and vulnerability shutter the honesty of her features before he'd been forced to turn and walk away.

He knew that what he was about to say could change their relationship-slash-partnership forever. He suspected she had feelings for him, deeper than just those of a partner for another partner. Scratch that—he knew that their feelings for each other went deeper than that. But still, step out too far on this particular limb and it might snap beneath his weight, tumbling him down to make a far too quick introduction to the rocky soil underneath.

"So Deeks got to go to a castle every day, and instead of hunting dragons he sometimes dressed up like one. But the part of his job that was most important to him was taking care of Princess Fern. You see, Princess Fern wasn't like the other princesses. She kept…" he searched for words, "jumping on dragons and pulling their tails. Sometimes Deeks thought she was insane. Most of the time, he was sure of it. But he also knew that if he didn't watch carefully enough, something might happen to her. Sometimes." He stopped, swallowed. "Sometimes, even when he was watching, stuff did happen to her. Bad stuff. Once it was some evil wizards who trapped her in a room with invisible spells. Once he had to listen while a particularly nasty dragon breathed fire all around her. That… that was a bad time for Deeks. Once a dragon disguised as a sick knight almost killed her. Time after time, Deeks had to sit back and watch while Princess Fern put herself in danger. And every time it happened, it hurt a little more. At first he thought she'd put a spell on him, or maybe it was just the bangin' body. But finally Deeks figured something out. "

This was it. The moment of truth.

"What actually happened was that Princess Fern had stolen his heart. Or maybe he gave it to her. I don't think it really matters. However it happened, she had it now. I think she kept it in her pocket, because every time she was in danger he could feel it beating right there with her."

"So now, the question is…what does she want to do with it?"

He stilled, closing his hands around hers. His heart really was pounding now, and it took every bit of courage he had to look over at her. He finally did, only to let out a quiet huff of slightly relieved laughter. Her eyes were closed, features peaceful. He took the opportunity afforded him and traced her features—eyebrows, cheekbones, lips and jaw—with an impossibly light touch before stroking her hair away from her face. He decided to leave her where she was for now. Chances are she'd awaken within a few hours, and he'd be there when she did. But for now she was fine on the sofa. He leaned down and kissed her forehead, then whispered in her ear.

"Sweet dreams, Princess Fern."

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><p>Hours later, she'd begun stirring but still wasn't awake. He'd puttered around in her kitchen and bedroom, opening drawers and going through her closet. And if he'd taken the time to check out her lingerie, well, that was the price of doing business. Or so he'd try and convince her if she ever discovered what he'd done.<p>

He heard a sharp rap at the door, and headed that way. He wasn't so worried about her waking up. Surely she'd slept long enough already. But he didn't want her up and trying to answer the door, especially if she was groggy. He was relieved to see when he got back to the living room that her eyes were still firmly closed.

There was no one there when he opened the door, but there was a huge bunch of cut flowers from a local florist sitting on the porch. He reached down to pick it up, intending to see who'd been sending flower to Kensi, but there was no card attached. Frowning he turned and reentered the house, flowers held at arm's length.

In fact, he was so focused on the flowers he failed to notice the dark van with tinted windows parked directly across from Kensi's porch. And he couldn't have heard the frustrated cursing that had erupted within the van when he'd opened the door.

Which was too bad, because as is turned out he would have saved all of them, especially Kensi, a great deal of trouble if he had.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: We've reached a turning point of sorts, and we're on the downhill side. Knowing who the bad guy is, well, that's half the battle...right?**?

**As always, thank you SO much for the alerts and most especially the reviews. They help keep me motivated to write!**

**Disclaimer: Despite my best efforts, I still own nothing! I promise to put Deeks and Kensi and all the rest back as soon as I'm done playing with them.**

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><p>Operations Manager Hetty Lange paused near the railing on the loft overlooking her….if she was honest…favorite team's bullpen. They were all there, sitting in their normal places in the leisure time that sometimes occurred between cases, but there was something <em>off<em>, she thought to herself. Not with her agents. No, her agents were the very best in the business, and their success rate spoke for itself. They were smart and persistent and oh so very brave, taking their lives in their hands whenever she asked. And she'd had to ask all too often.

She believed in what they did, and she understood the significance of their work. Flag and country were hard taskmistresses, and sometimes even the ultimate sacrifice wasn't enough to silence their demands. Many of the people in her position believed the hardest call to make was the phone call to parents and spouses and families, letting them know that their loved one was never coming home. But Hetty Lange knew better. The hardest call to make was deciding whom to send where. Who dresses up as an arms dealer and who stays back at Ops, listening in. Who wears a wire and pretends to be a dirty agent, and who backs them up. Those were the times when she knew she held lives in her hands, literally. She'd always hated those decisions.

She was happy she had such a capable team leader in Callen. She'd been able to turn a lot of those day-to-day decisions over to him. He was smart, and his instincts were nothing short of brilliant. He always seemed to intuit which team to send to which location. Oh, she still had to make some of the long-term choices. Deep cover wasn't a part of their daily repertoire, but on those cases when it was necessary it required her okay. She still sat in Ops and listened in on almost every operation, and she still gave directions when she thought it was appropriate. But much of the planning she left in Callen's more than capable hands, and she was quite happy to do so.

Mr. Callen was currently sitting back at his desk, trying to read his usual newspaper. He was having some difficulty due to the splint on his left wrist, which made it difficult for him to hold the paper properly. His partner, Sam Hanna, was sitting across from him, an ugly knot marring the smooth skin at the back of his head, visible even at this distance. Perhaps their injuries had caused a part of the off-ness that Hetty could feel permeating her bullpen. But that wasn't all of it.

She turned her attention to the other team sitting at their desks in the enclosed corner they considered their own. Kensi was leaning her head against her hand, elbow propped on her desk next to a stack of files she was slowly but surely thumbing through. Deeks was tapping away on his keyboard, keeping his eyes steady on the screen. It appeared to Hetty that the two of them were determinedly not looking at each other. Apparently they'd had another tiff or disagreement of some sort. That might have contributed to the off feeling, but it couldn't be all of it. The two of them argued and bickered enough that it couldn't possibly generate a great deal of new energy.

No, something was decidedly off in her bullpen, and to her annoyance Hetty couldn't figure out what it was.

Just then, Eric approached her hesitantly. She nodded at him.

"Mr. Beale?"

"Hetty, we've got some new intel on Kensi's poisoning case. Do you want me to call the entire team up, or should we try and…?"

Hetty turned back to look at Kensi once more. The week she'd been given to recover was almost over, but Hetty wasn't sure the agent was completely up to speed. They'd all worked hard to keep her out of the case since she'd returned to work, but there was little Hetty could do now. Short of barring her from Ops, there was no way to prevent her from listening in. Barring her from Ops would certainly clue her in that something was going on without her knowledge, something that was being kept from her. And after what had happened with Deeks' 'firing', Hetty just couldn't bear to do that to her again.

"Call them all up, Mr. Beale."

At his whistle, all four of the agents looked up from the bullpen. With an upraised thumb, Eric signaled them up. But as they began making their way toward the staircase, Kensi was approached by one of the lab techs.

"Kensi..er, Agent Blye, there was something I wanted to show you, if…if you don't mind."

Stifling a sigh of impatience at being distracted from the first real sign of a case since she'd come back to work, Kensi looked at the chem analyst. "I'm sorry, Hatton, but I've just been called up to Ops. Maybe I could swing by later, and see if.."

"No, Kens, it's okay." At some unspoken communication from Hetty, Callen turned to smile reassuringly at the two of them. "You go see what Barkley has. He did save your life, you know. Join us in Ops when you can."

"I know he did." Forcing a smile, Kensi turned back to the other man. She wanted to protest, but Callen's quiet voice had been implacable. "Okay, Hatton, let's go see what you wanted to show me."

Once up in Ops, Hetty turned to her team leader. "Thank you, Mr. Callen. The case in question is Kensi's, and it is perhaps for the best that she isn't here."

Callen nodded, then turned to big screen. "Okay, Eric, what have you got?"

Eric pulled up the police report first. "Well, we all assumed that Kensi's poisoning was accidental because Thomas Hamad, the patriarch of the family, had randomly poisoned the donuts in the case due to a deteriorating mental stability. We determined this due to his manifestos, writings we found on his computer that were posted over time to various anti-government websites." Images of the manifestos showed up on the screen. "But as it turns out, with a little deeper digging we found out the manifestos weren't written on his computer at all. They were planted there. It looks like they were all hidden in files within files so that Hamad himself wouldn't find them. And despite the time-date stamps dating back over the last two years, computer forensics says the first was planted less than six weeks ago."

"That still doesn't mean dude wasn't crazy, " Sam said, frowning up at the screen. "And if he didn't do any of this, why'd he pack up his family and move 'em all out?"

"Turns out he didn't." Nell picked up the narrative now. A grisly image appeared on the screen. "They were all four murdered. Father, mother, both kids. Single gunshots to the head, bodies dumped far enough out that they might not ever have been discovered if a couple of hikers hadn't gotten lost. A search party looking for the hikers stumbled over the bodies instead."

They were all silent, absorbing the impact.

"So Kensi wasn't unlucky," Callen said. "She was targeted."

"But how?" Deeks said, moving around to stand in front of the screen. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the images of those still, small bodies. It took a different kind of monster to commit that kind of atrocity. And now that monster was after Kensi. "How could anyone know we'd be there that day? We didn't plan it. It wasn't part of a regular route. I was practicing my trade craft. No routines, leaving at different times every day and going to different…""

"Relax, Deeks. We're not questioning your security protocols." Sam's voice was reassuring, but it did little to calm Deeks' inner turmoil.

"Well maybe you should be," he said, tone more than a little bitter. Finally he was able to turn around and look at the other agents. "I picked that place. That morning we had an argument about whether or not to get coffee or donuts. She won so we got donuts, but I got to pick the donut place." He took a deep breath. "This is all my fault. I got sloppy somehow, and the bad guys got to her. Again."

"This isn't helping." Callen moved forward, eyes meeting Deeks' gaze squarely. "This _isn't_ your fault, but it doesn't matter anyway. She's okay. All that matters now is figuring out who did it and how."

"It had to be meticulously well-planned," said Nell slowly. She pulled up pictures of the bakery. "The poison was planted in the regular sugar dusting sieve in the kitchen, and the only fingerprints on it were the family's. The donuts in the case seemed to be randomly poisoned. Although the entire back row, which is where the family would serve from first, was affected."

"They couldn't have known we'd be there that day, because we didn't have a routine." Deeks turned back to the screen once more, trying to focus on something more productive than _this is all my fault_ and _how could I let this happen again_, thoughts that kept circling in his head. "We didn't even plan on going for donuts that morning until after we got in the car. Someone had to have staked out Kensi's place."

"But just staking out and following you two isn't the end of the story," said Callen, frowning. "It had to be someone who knew Kensi. Knew her habits, knew she had a thing for sweets. Knew that sooner or later she'd be stopping in for a donut."

"Someone who knew she favored the kind of donut that had glaze and powdered sugar both." Deeks shook his head slightly. "Kensi's sweet tooth may be legendary here, but it's not part of her legend."

"Someone who didn't care about collateral damage," offered Sam. "There were other donuts in the case, and there could have been other customers in the store. Anyone could have walked in. And we were lucky to have a chemist in-house who could decode the toxin in a matter of hours, but outside would have been different."

"Not only decode the chemical make-up of the toxin, but both develop a formula for the antidote and formulate a dose of it himself." Nell set her tablet down and turned to face the others. "Kensi really was pretty lucky that we have him."

"Wait a minute…did you say formulate a dose himself?" Callen's tone was disbelieving. "You can't possibly formulate antivenom in a matter of hours. It takes days to develop it properly, and if it's not developed properly it remains just as toxic as venom itself. I worked undercover in a herpetarium in La Paz, and I'm telling you it can't be done in hours."

"But if Barkley didn't develop the antivenom that day, it means he'd already created it," Eric said. "And if he'd already created it, it means he knew we'd need it. And the only way he'd know we needed it was if…"

"He was the one who poisoned her in the first place." Callen's mind was moving at light-speed, and he'd just realized something. He began to move towards the doorway. "Just now as we were coming up, he stopped her. Said he needed to show her something. I…I told her to go with him."

"So right now Kensi is with the guy who poisoned her, only she doesn't now he's the guy who poisoned her." Deeks pulled his gun from his holster, Sam right behind him as they followed Callen out the door. "Eric, see if you can find them. Call as soon as you do."

"On it," said Eric, turning back to his computer. Nell picked her tablet up, and they prepared to do what they did best. Hetty took a deep breath, then settled down to wait. She'd been correct when she'd sensed something wrong in her bullpen. What she hadn't realized was that it wasn't the people in the bullpen who were off. It was the presence of evil nearby.

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><p>"So, Hatton, what was it you wanted to show me?" The walk to the chem lab had been mostly silent, although Kensi had been able to sense a great deal of tension in Barkley's walk. She rather thought the man had developed a bit of a crush on her, and she didn't want to hurt his feelings or lead him on. She'd have to choose her words carefully.<p>

He unlocked the door to the lab by punching a series of numbers in the keypad and holding his thumb over the sensor, then he opened the door with a flourish. "Come in, Kensi, and I'll be happy to show you what it is. It's pretty…amazing, I think."

She followed him into the lab, then stood in the center of the room, looking around. It was certainly very impressive. There were test tubes and burners and coils everywhere, and it looked like she imagined a mad scientist's lab would look.

"Here, put this on." He handed her a mask much like the clear plastic safety goggles she remembered from when she'd taken chemistry and physics. She put the mask on, then watched as he put one on as well. "Now, step to the side and watch this."

He took her elbow and walked her to one corner of the room, next to a large metal barrel. "Here. Why don't you stand next to this. I think you'll be out of range.."

Obligingly she leaned against the barrel. "Okay. I'm…ready, I guess."

He turned and moved to the other corner of the room. "Now…keep your eyes on the ceiling." She looked up, and he darkened the room. He began fiddling with a series of controls, and then suddenly a burst of light filled the room. Kensi closed her eyes against the miniature starburst, then stared as golden letters bloomed against the ceiling. She held on to her mask as she began to read them.

"I….love….you…Kensi?"

Shaking her head as the letters began to blur out, she dropped her gaze to meet Barkley's stare. "Hatton, that's sweet, really. And very very good. But.."

"Oh, I know. You don't feel that way about me." A hint of a sneer moved briefly across his lips. "You want to be friends."

"Well, yeah." Kensi's vision was still blurred after the fireworks show, but she watched as Hatton approached her. "I mean, you're a great guy. Really, you are, and I owe you a solid for curing me and everything. But I just don't feel that way about you."

"And who _do_ you feel that way about, Kensi?" He leaned in closer to her, and she stepped back until she was fully against the barrel. "Do you feel that way about someone here? Someone at NCIS?"

"Why are you acting this way?" Her vision wasn't just blurred. The room was beginning to spin a bit. "What are you saying?"

"I saw you. Saw you with him. Yesterday, in the bullpen. And this morning. This morning he was at your house." His voice rose, and she winced as her head began to pound. "Did he spend the night?"

"I don't…I don't get it." There were black dots dancing in her vision now, and her knees were decidedly shaky.

In an instant, his expression changed. "That's okay, Kensi. You will. I'm going to help you." He reached out and took off her mask. "I think you've had that on long enough."

"The mask. You…drugged me?"

"Of course I did." He reached out and touched her face, excited when she tried and failed to bring her hand up to stop him. "I had to. I had to do something to make you see reason." Reaching behind her, he pried open the lid to the metal barrel and let it drop to the floor with a clang. "In just a minute, we're going to go somewhere better than this. Someplace safe, where you and I can be alone. We won't ever have to worry about anyone coming between us again."

The black dots grew and encompassed the room, and her limbs were no longer under her control. As she began a slow slide down, she had time for a brief hope that Deeks and the guys figured this out soon before the floor rose up to meet her.

* * *

><p>With the ease of years together as partners, Sam and Callen flanked the door to the chem lab, guns raised and ready. Deeks dropped in behind Sam, waiting on the signal to move. To no one's surprise, the door was locked. Callen pulled out his phone and dialed.<p>

"Eric? Can you unlock the chem lab?"

"On it," said Eric, typing away. But he spoke again almost immediately. "Uh, Callen? It looks like Barkley's managed to override security. It's going to take me a few minutes."

"You've got two," said Callen. But it was closer to five before the light flashed green and there was an audible click as the locks disengaged.

The three agents moved into the lab as one, scanning each area of the lab with guns raised.

"Clear." Sam came out of the office, gun down.

"Clear." Callen was behind a partition that sectioned off the back half of the room.

"Clear." Deeks holstered his gun once more, standing in the center of the deserted lab. "Dammit. Where is he? And where's Kensi?"

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Callen pulled out his phone once more, but before he could make the call one of the other lab techs, a slight, dark-haired ballistics expert named Albert Maxey, stuck his head in. "Oh, hey, are you guys looking for Barkley? He left already."

Deeks marched to the door. "Did you see him leave? Where did he go? Was he alone?"

"Whoa," said Maxey, backing up with an alarmed expression on his face. "Intense much?"

"Just answer the questions." Deeks grasped the front of the man's shirt in his hands, and Callen approached with a murmured warning. "Callen, we need to know what this guy knows."

"Yes, we do, but remember he's on our side."

"We thought Barkley was on our side too."

"Come on, Deeks." Callen put a hand on Deeks' arm. "This isn't helping."

With a muttered curse, Deeks let go of the man's shirt and took two small steps back. His eyes never left the other man's face. "Now, answer the questions."

"I did see him leave, actually." Maxey looked away from Deeks, meeting Callen's less threatening gaze. "He was alone. But he was pushing a big heavy barrel on a dolly. I asked him about it, because, you know, we're really not supposed to take materials home unless we follow specific protocols, and there wasn't a yellow security seal on the barrel. Barkley said he was just taking it to the incinerator." Swallowing hard, Sam turned and dropped his head. Callen closed his eyes, but he still managed to grasp Deeks arm as the other man made a furious move towards the door. Maxey continued, speaking faster now. "Bu..but he didn't! Take it to the incinerator I mean. He got on the service elevator and it only went to the ground floor, not the basement."

"He's leaving the mission. Deeks, call Eric and have him send us Barkley's address." Callen grasped Maxey's shoulder briefly. "Thank you. You've been very helpful."

With earwigs in place and guns at the ready, Callen, Sam, and Deeks were in Sam's car within minutes, heading towards the address Eric had programmed into their phones.


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's note: This chapter almost got away from me. I started writing and then just kept going until I realized (a) it was much longer than I'd intended and (b) I'd already ventured far into what I had planned for the next chapter. The good thing about all that is that I've already got about half of the next chapter written. The bad news is that we are almost to the end, and while I'm excited about the payoff, I'm a little bit sad to end the adventure. Only two more chapters after this one. I have truly enjoyed writing this story!**

**Thanks as always go out to all the people who were kind enough to leave any kind of feedback, from a favorite to an alert to (especially) a review. Special thanks to SunnyCitrus10, who writes some seriously awesome reviews! **

**Disclaimer: Still don't own 'em, but I'm pretty sure I'll put 'em back when I'm done. Most of 'em, anyway. :)**

* * *

><p>Special Agent G. Callen was a man who appreciated control. A psychologist would say (and had, on more than one occasion) that it was due to the lack of control he'd had over the course of his childhood. The absence of a father figure, his mother's murder, being placed in foster home after foster home while his bewildered younger self had tried desperately to adapt and fit in wherever he landed this time…well, it was easy to connect the dots. Not that Callen ever tried to. He only visited the psychologist when he had to be cleared to go back to work or whenever Nate blew through town. And he didn't think knocking back a few beers with his former teammate counted as a real visit to the headshrinker.<p>

However it had originated, Callen's ability to control himself and almost any situation were not only legendary at NCIS but part of what made him such a good agent. He could stare unflinching into the barrel of a gun and coolly assess his options while hanging from the roof of a skyscraper by his fingertips, and he could almost always figure a way out of any situation. Lack of control, on the other hand, made him itchy. He didn't like not knowing the answers, and he didn't like not knowing where his people were. And he especially didn't like it when his people were in trouble.

Which was why right now he was having the very devil's own time holding on to control.

With a bad-tempered curse, Callen kicked the door closed. "Nothing. There's nothing here."

Eric's voice filtered in through the tiny earwig. "No clues?"

"No, I mean literally there's nothing here. No furniture, no clothes, not so much as a stray toothbrush or leftover tissue." Callen surveyed the overgrown lawn. "It looks like no one's lived here in weeks."

"That's unlikely," Nell broke in. "Anyone who works for our branch of NCIS is required to maintain current personnel records, and home addresses are vetted thoroughly when an agent first joins the agency and randomly checked throughout employment here. Verification is made through both site visits and by checking GPS coordinates on our phones. It's a failsafe to track and prevent improprieties and financial double-dealing."

"Look, I don't know about unlikely or random checks but I'm telling you Barkley doesn't live here. Somehow he figured out a way to beat the system." Callen turned to look at Deeks and Sam as they approached, having checked the back yard and garage for any further evidence. Their grim expressions indicated they'd had about as much success as he had. "Eric, figure out what you can. See if you can find any clues as to where he might be now. Nell, try and track down how exactly he managed to avoid six months worth of site visits and GPS coordinate checks. We're heading back in." He tapped his earwig to disengage. "No luck?" he questioned the other two.

"The only thing I found in there were dust bunnies the size of Saint Bernards. I'd be surprised if there's been a car in there in months," Sam reported.

Deeks spoke next. "Back yard is clear except for grass that hasn't seen a mower since the Bush administration."

"Then there's nothing left for us here." Abruptly Callen turned and headed towards Sam's car. "Let's get back to the office and see what good we can do there."

* * *

><p>Callen was silent on the ride back to the mission, as were the other two agents. Usually a silent trip was an indicator of fatigue or concentration or sometimes just the relief of a job well done. But today's silence was different. It was darker, heavier. It was the silence of worry and of fear, and of knowing one of them was in trouble. It was the silence of being powerless to change the circumstances. It was the silence of helplessness. He wanted to say something to break the silence, but he couldn't frame any words in his head that wouldn't sound either false or extraneous.<p>

He angled to look over at Sam. It was hard for Sam; Callen knew that. For all his tough exterior and Navy Seal background, there was a big teddy bear buried underneath the muscle and the brawn. No, not a teddy bear. A mamma bear. He'd mother the lot of them if given the chance. He took care of their scratches and scrapes, reminded them to eat healthy, worried over their well-being, nagged them about anything that he saw fit. And right now it was killing Sam to know that a murdering psychopath had Kensi in his grasp.

Callen couldn't see Deeks sitting in the middle of the back seat, but he didn't have to. He knew how Deeks felt. He'd been in the same situation, sitting on the outside while his partner was in trouble. He'd had to listen while a woman he cared about put herself in harm's way. He wasn't sure exactly what the situation between Deeks and Kensi was, but he knew that there was something simmering between them. He'd known it almost from the beginning, even though initially he'd done nothing more than tease Kensi about it. Normally a personal relationship between partners was a mistake. It muddied the waters, changed priorities, put another person's safety ahead of the mission. But in the case of the agent and the detective, it had made them stronger as a team. Better. And it had given him and Sam a bit of a breather. No one had ever had Kensi's back the same way Deeks did, and he knew the other man would follow her into hell itself to keep her safe. She'd had other partners, but he and Sam had never had been able to put the same kind of trust in them to keep her safe that they had in Deeks. And based on the little he knew of Deeks' history with the LAPD, Callen suspected Deeks had never had a partner like Kensi either. No, the two of them were right in a way that defied logic or reason. And he didn't want to have to help Deeks get through it if anything happened to Kensi that ended with…

_No. Don't go there. Don't allow even the possibility_. Callen exerted some of that iron control and shut the thought down before it could get any further.

Time to get to work.

* * *

><p>The first thing Kensi was aware of was that everything itched. Her arms and shoulders, her chest and abdomen, her legs from hips to toes. She tried to reach out and scratch the itchiness, which is when she became aware of the second thing: her hands were secured above her head, and she couldn't move them at all. She shook her arm a bit, hearing the familiar clink of handcuffs.<p>

"Oh, good! You're awake." The perversely cheerful voice of Hatton Barkley was somewhere close to her right side, and she cringed away from him. His tone turned anxious. "Now, Kensi, don't be like that. I'm going to take care of you now." A hand that felt cold and clammy stroked the side of her face, and she started violently away, unable to bear his touch. Her eyes slowly opened, and she stared into his eyes, far too close to her own.

"There you go. I knew you were about to wake up." He sounded ingratiatingly pleasant. "I timed it, you see. Planned the dose perfectly, or so I thought. And I was right, because you woke up right on time. Did you know the surface of the eye is very close to completely permeable? You can anesthetize someone almost immediately with very few side effects. Except…I'm afraid, my dear, that you may be experiencing some itching. That's…that's why I had to handcuff you. So you wouldn't harm yourself. And also because I know it's too soon. You don't understand yet."

"Take these cuffs off right now, Hatton, or so help me…"

"Now, now, Kensi. Don't be like that." The sides of his mouth turned down, and he looked absurdly sad, almost as if she'd hurt his feelings. "I…I love you."

She grimaced, and he hurried to speak. "I know it's a little too soon to be telling you that. My mom always said I should take it slow when I met the right girl. And I've tried taking it slow with you. But you didn't even notice." She was alarmed at the way a hectic red flush began to rise in his cheeks as his voice rose accordingly. "First I was going to save you from the poison, but that jerk Eric wouldn't even let me bring it to you. Then I made sure I was near the staircase when the railing went, but you weren't even where you were supposed to be! Your partner.." his voice broke on that word, "was with you instead, and Callen and Hanna went down. And took me with them! I ended up under that Neanderthal, and he was heavy! Heavy, Kensi!"

She made the mistake of snickering, and his eyes narrowed to slits. "Are you laughing at me? Don't ever _laugh_ at me!" And he backhanded her viciously.

She lay there stunned for a moment, before easing the tip of her tongue out to where the worst of the pain was concentrated. She could taste the coppery taste of blood, and she swore to herself then and there that she'd make him pay for that indignity.

"And that wasn't all, Kensi. I arranged a little accident in the shower room, and you sent Nell instead. How could you do that to me? How _could_ you?" And he began to ramble around the room, almost incoherent in his rage. "I did it all for you! For _you_! And this is how you repay me?" Stopping near the bed, he got down close to her face, features contorted and almost unrecognizable, spittle gathering in the corner of his mouth. He continued to scream at her and slapped her again, and then again, and then kept hitting and slapping her until she finally decided it was easier to let herself sink into unconsciousness again.

* * *

><p>"Callen, we may have something." At Eric's jubilant words, Callen, Sam, and Deeks all three looked up from where they'd been going over personnel files on Hatton Barkley. Eric and Nell stood at the edge of the bullpen, both of them practically vibrating with suppressed excitement.<p>

"Talk to me, Eric."

"Well we've been looking at property that was acquired within the last six months, which is why we couldn't find anything. But when we looked back earlier, we found a property several miles outside of town in the Patton preserve that was acquired about a month before Hatton came to work here. But it was after the assignment had been made, which means he knew he'd be working in this area."

Deeks stood up, a painfully hopeful look in his haunted eyes. "What's the name on the title?"

"This is where we had to get clever. The name on the property was Balky Hentarot, which is, of course…" Eric stopped, and Nell took over.

"An anagram for Hatton Barkley."

All three agents stood up and moved as one to the doorway. Callen called back, "Send the coordinates, Eric. We're out of here."

* * *

><p>"How do we do this?" asked Deeks in a low voice. They were sitting in Sam's car at the bottom of the road leading up to Hatton's house, an unassuming wooden structure that looked as if it had seen better days. "If we go in guns blazing, we may scare him into hurting Kensi."<p>

"But if we don't, we give him time to work an angle. Maybe set up some kind of trap." Sam looked over at Callen. "Your call, G."

"Let's reconnaissance first. See what we can see, see if we can spot Kensi." Callen was watching the house, looking to see if there was any sign of movement. So far he'd seen nothing. "Come on."

The agents approached the house, silent and with guns held ready. Callen made it onto the wraparound porch first, followed closely by Sam and then Deeks. Deeks and Sam were preparing to flank the porch as Callen approached the wide gable window, but they were all three shocked into stillness as the front door suddenly opened. Hatton Barkley stood there, nose pink and eyes red. He looked from one to the other of them, his expression confused.

"Gentleman? What are you doing here? Can I help you?"

Deeks had had enough. He lunged toward the other man and grasped his shirt with both hands. "Where is she? What'd you do with her?" His voice was low, eyes narrowed and teeth gritted as he got in Barkley's face. Callen and Sam moved to stand on either side of him, but this time Callen made no effort to stop him. Both of their gazes were pinned on Barkley as well.

"What are you talking about?" Barkley was the very picture of innocent bewilderment. "Who?"

"Kensi. Agent Blye." Deeks wanted to tear the man apart limb from limb, but he wanted Kensi more. "We know you've got her. That you left with her in a…in a barrel."

"Oh, I'm so sorry, but you're mistaken. I…I would never do such a thing." He pointed apologetically to his nose. "I seem to have developed a cold or some kind of sinus condition, so I did come home a little early. But I didn't… I wouldn't have carried someone in the barrel." He pointed behind himself where a large metal barrel was clearly visible. "I just brought a little work home with me. Oh, dear, I forgot to follow protocol, didn't I? Just a little oversight on my part." His hands fluttered as if he were truly distressed, and his expression bore that out. But Deeks was close enough to really look into his eyes, and what he saw were twin sparks of malice and sheer smug triumph. He thought he already had this won. Barkley went on. "You're welcome to search my house, of course."

"Thanks," said Callen shortly. "We will."

But almost forty minutes later they had to admit defeat. Kensi wasn't in the house. Not in the bedrooms or the basement or the closets or the cupboards. Deeks had even crawled down the laundry chute just to be certain. They regrouped in the living room. Callen tapped his earwig. "Eric, can you check the rest of the property for existing structures?" Barkley, who'd been hovering near the doorway, jerked slightly, causing all three of them to turn and look at him. "Anything you want to tell us?"

Barkley stepped all the way into the room and seated himself on the sofa. His demeanor was casual and unconcerned, but it was hard to fool trained interrogators, and they all noticed the line of sweat that was now beading up around his hairline. His hand was trembling slightly as he straightened the collar of his shirt. "Of course not."

Eric's voice broke in. "Some kind of shed at the back corner of the property, about a half mile back. South southwest from the back door."

Callen got to his feet. "Deeks, stay with Barkley. Sam, with me."

"No." Deeks planted himself squarely in front of Callen. "Either leave Sam with him, or we bring him, or we handcuff him to the fireplace, or whatever else makes it okay for me to go with you. Because I am not waiting here while she's…she's out there, somewhere. Please don't ask me to do that." But it wasn't really a question. Deeks' voice was quiet and firm, and his expression was implacable. It was clear he would not be left behind.

"Cuff him to the bathroom sink." Callen waited while Sam and Deeks hustled Barkley into the bathroom. Then the three of them hurried out the back door to find their missing teammate.

But they hadn't gotten more than 50 yards before Eric broke in. "Looks like Barkley's out, and heading west. I'm following his heat signature, and he's heading towards another heat signature. The other one is…is immobile."

"How did he…? Never mind. Not important." Callen turned and looked at the other two. "Let's see where he's going." They changed direction. "Eric, keep us posted."

"Got it," said Eric, glad to do anything he could to help. "He's got about a 75 foot lead."

* * *

><p>Kensi was awakened suddenly when the door banged open. "They're here," Barkley hissed at her. "Callen and Hanna and your cretin partner. They think they're so clever, handcuffing me to a sink, but how could they think something that simple would stop <em>me<em>? I'm going to make sure that they'll never ever find you." He reached up to where her hands were cuffed and had her free in a few seconds. Her hands dropped into her lap, and the pain as blood began to flow through abused muscles once more was staggering. It took her breath, and she was only vaguely aware that Barkley had lifted her up to carry her.

"Don't….don't…" she repeated weakly, unable to formulate a stronger protest.

"Don't worry, my dear. I'm going to take you away again, and we'll be alone. Together at last."

"I wouldn't count on that." Callen stood in the doorway of the old playhouse, gun raised and aimed at Barkley's head. Barkley let her legs drop, and moved her body so that she was a shield between him and the gun. Kensi's head drooped weakly on his shoulder, and her arms hung at her sides. It was obvious she wasn't going to be of any help, to herself or to them. He angled himself slightly so that his back was to the wall, then spoke in a loud voice.

"Come on out, agents. You don't want me to do something nasty." Reaching into his pocket, Barkley swiftly pulled out a hypodermic needle and held it to Kensi's unprotected neck. "This makes the first poison look like a walk in the park. Agent Hanna, Detective Deeks, please show yourself immediately before I'm forced to use it."

Sam walked into the room from behind Callen, and Deeks came in through the small back door. Barkley smiled at the three of them.

"Now, gentleman, let's get down to business."


	9. Chapter 9

**Author's note: So, we're almost to the end now, and it's been a bumpy ride for our poor heroine and hero. But I've had a BALL with it, and I hope you have too!**

**Thanks as always for some truly fabulous reviews! Special thanks to imahistorian and SunnyCitrus10, who absolutely make my day with fabulously specific and detailed reviews. You are both, in Deeks' favorite word, AWESOME!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I will put them back as soon as I'm finished playing with them, mostly undamaged I think. But with another fic idea brewing already, I can't promise to leave them there.**

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><p>Hatton Barkley was still sweating, cheeks flushed and pink, but he was steadier now, more sure of himself. "I have something you want," he nodded his head towar Kensi, held loosely in front of him like a shield as he faced Callen. "And you would prefer to get it back undamaged. For that to happen, you've got to keep me happy."<p>

"Undamaged? Looks like it's a little too late for that." Deeks grim gaze was trained on Kensi's battered face as he stood to the right of the little tableaux.

At the sound of his voice, she looked around for him, dazed brown eyes finally meeting his. "Deeks?" she whispered. "I knew you'd come for me."

He could barely hear her voice, but it almost broke him nonetheless. "I'm here, Princess. We're going to have you out of here in a jiffy."

"No, you're not." Barkley shook his head quickly. "You're never going to take her away from me. She's mine. She's always been mine. My first day on the job, do you know what she said to me? I was walking in, and almost everyone was acting in a typically rude and superior fashion, and as I was standing there waiting on the elevator to go up to the chem lab, she said…" his voice broke, "She said good morning. Just like that! Good morning. And that's when I knew she was going to be mine."

Callen's eyes met Sam's, years of experience and unspoken communication between them. Callen's tiny nod toward Barkley was all Sam needed. "No, she's not." Sam's voice was calm, and Barkley whirled around to face him.

"Kensi's got better taste than that." Barkley's attention was drawn back when Callen spoke. "You know, she could have any guy she wanted. She doesn't want a runt like you."

"Nope. Definitely not." Deeks spoke next, and Barkley turned again. Deeks might not have the shared history that the other two had, but he did have a cop's instincts, and he thought he knew what they intended. He hoped like hell that he was right…and even more so that it ended without injury to Kensi. Further injury, anyway.

"Never gonna happen." Callen's voice was soft and taunting, and Barkley's raised hand began to shake. The needle vibrated awfully close to Kensi's unprotected neck, and Deeks swallowed hard.

"What, a primo shorty like her with a schmuck like you?" Sam laughed, although there was no mirth in his eyes. "You outta your mind, Barkley? She'd never do it. Not even for a pity date."

"You're wrong. You're all wrong." Barkley's face was almost purple now, and his features were barely human, contorted in rage as they were. "She will love me. She will! We're going to be alone, and once I help her to understand, we'll be together. Forever."

"Oh, you think so? Psycho like you, hot babe like her?" Deeks' voice was calm, but his hand tightened, finger at the ready as he held his gun poised. It was clear that Barkley was close to losing control. "Have you _seen_ her? Have you seen _you_?"

"Girls like her, they want a real man. A man with a little muscle." Sam shifted his shoulders, biceps rippling. "A man who can keep her happy. Not a little…bitty…shrimp like you."

With an incoherent cry of rage, Barkley let Kensi drop a bit and turned sideways, the hand with the deadly needle raised and stretched out toward Sam. Immediately the other three men went into action. Deeks slid forward and yanked Kensi into his arms, then spun so that his own body was between her and Barkley as he swiftly moved her away. Callen lunged at Barkley and grasped his forearm, holding his hand with the needle up in the air. But Barkley was too far gone to realize he was outmanned and outmatched, and he began twisting his wrist furiously, trying to get the point of the needle down far enough to reach Callen's arm.

Which is when Sam shot him through the hand, shattering skin and bone and the needle still held aloft.

With a horrified scream, Barkley collapsed in on himself, cradling his ruined hand, and Callen stepped back.

"No," said Barkley, beginning to cry. "Don't you realize…what you've done? That was live toxin. It was in my hands when he…" He turned to look piteously up at Callen. "The antivenom…the antivenom is back at the house. You'll get it for me, right? You have to. Kensi…my Kensi will make you get it for me."

Slipping one arm under her knees, the other still cradling her shoulders, Deeks picked Kensi up and prepared to carry her out of the house. "Sorry," he said, voice indifferent. "Kensi's busy right now." Stepping over Barkley's legs, the detective shouldered the front door open and carried his precious burden out into the sunlight.

Callen looked at Sam, who shrugged lightly. They both turned to look at Barkley, who was already turning a delicate shade of chartreuse.

"Could be an asset," murmured Callen.

"Kind of crazy," Sam responded. "Plus he's a little obsessed with Kensi."

"Guess we'll let Hetty make the call." Callen turned to contact Hetty as Barkley began to plead in the background. "Hetty? You there?"

"Yes, Mr. Callen?"

"We have what you might call a situation here. And we're going to need you to make a decision for us."

* * *

><p>Deeks carried Kensi across the uneven ground, watching carefully to avoid stray branches and twigs or anything else that could trip him up. "Eric, can you send an ambulance to this location?"<p>

"On it."

"I can walk, you know." Her voice was low and tired.

"I know." He shifted her a little higher. "Doesn't mean you're going to. Come on, Princess. Let me be the hero here."

"Princess, huh. Would that be Princess Fern?" He looked down at her then, and even with the swelling and bruises on her face he could see amusement in the slight quirk of her lips.

"You remember her?"

"Yes." One of her hands lifted and stroked the scruff on his jaw lightly, then trailed down and around to rest behind his neck. "I never was much one for fairy tales when I was a little girl. Probably because I was more interested in spending time with my dad." She nestled her head into the crook of his neck, and the sweetness of the gesture was almost enough to bring him to a halt. But the house was in sight now, and he wanted a chance to do a thorough assessment of her injuries.

"Not much time for fairy tales when you're learning to track puma and hotwire a Cessna."

"Nope." She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly, relaxing into his hold. "But I liked that fairy tale a lot."

She was silent for the remainder of the walk to the house, and he hoped she was able to doze a little. The next few hours were probably not going to be pleasant. She was strong, his Kensi, but even a strong woman had a breaking point. She'd been through enough over the last week to break the even the strongest.

Once he reached the house, he walked up the steps and onto the porch. Avoiding the interior of the house where Barkley lived, he moved out onto the wide verandah and over to a three cushion porch swing. Laying her on it, he sat down on the edge of the swing next to her. Gently he took her chin in one hand and angled her face first one way then the other so he could assess the bruises and injuries to her face. Using his free hand, he gently traced the worst of the marks, fingers ghosting over jaw and cheekbone and nose. He didn't think any bones were broken and he couldn't feel anything out of place, but he ached in sympathy just the same.

"Oh, Princess." His voice was choked and a little muffled. "Just look at you. Look at what he did to you."

"I'm fine, Deeks." He didn't respond, and she reached up and took his hand, flattening it gently over the side of her face. "Come on. I give you an 'I'm fine' and that's all the reaction I get?"

But he couldn't muster even a token smile. "You will be fine. But for right now, let's just take it easy til the experts get here, yeah?"

As if on cue, the wail of sirens began to waft up from the road below. "And here they are now." He got up with one last lingering caress, then moved down the driveway to direct the ambulance when it arrived.

Within a half hour, the place was crawling with people. Additional NCIS personnel, county sheriffs, crime techs and forensics; Deeks thought he'd even seen a couple of FBI wandering around the back of the property at one point. Which wasn't completely far-fetched given the nature of the biohazards Barkley was capable of creating.

Barkley was being carried out on a gurney now, his voice rising and falling in a constant babble of nonsense. Deeks forced himself not to watch. He still had a very strong desire to throttle the man until his head popped right off his neck. He supposed that would never go away, not until he was able to forget the memory of Kensi laying in a hospital bed fighting for her life, or of a deadly needle vibrating wildly next to her neck. So for now, he put it away.

Kensi was sitting in the back of another ambulance, a clean white blanket wrapped around her shoulders. One of the EMTs was shining a pen light in her eyes, while the other was gently running a moistened gel wipe over the sides of her face. It looked soothing and must have had some sort of anesthetic affect, because the lines of pain in Kensi's expression were starting to ease. But her eyes were beginning a slow burn, and she looked up at the taller EMT in disbelief. Deeks walked towards the ambulance in time to hear her when she spoke.

"Are you out of your mind? I'm fine, I already told you that, and I am not going to the hospital."

"Agent Blye," the EMT replied with practiced calm, "We need to do some xrays and make sure there's no more serious injury. Just as a precaution."

"I know how to treat concussion, so even if there is a 'more serious injury'," she wiggled two pairs of fingers in irritated air quotes, "then I know what to do."

"But you shouldn't be home alone tonight. If nothing else, someone needs to wake you up every so often just to make sure…"

"She won't be," broke in Deeks. "Home alone, I mean. I'll be there with her."

At that, Kensi deflated completely, breath hissing out and shoulders drooping as she looked up at him with real relief in her eyes. "Deeks, thank you. Would you please tell these guys that I don't need to go to the hospital?" Dropping the blanket behind her, she grasped the side of the ambulance to help pull herself up, and Deeks hurried forward to help her.

"She'll be okay, fellas." He took her left hand in his, then eased his right arm around her back. "Believe me when I tell you that she's had worse and laughed it off. Kensi here is practically the Queen of Slings. Except that she refuses to use one, even when she breaks her wrist." She breathed a quiet huff of laughter at the shared memory, and then the two of them made their way over to her car. He put her in the passenger seat as carefully as if she were a treasure, or a nuclear bomb maybe, then reached in and buckled the seat belt across her. Because he couldn't help himself, he stroked her hair back from her face and kissed her softly, first on the forehead, then on the corner of her swollen mouth, before withdrawing from her side of the car. She leaned back in the seat and let her eyes close as he gently shut the door, and after staring at her for a few seconds or minutes or maybe even hours, he went to find Callen to tell the team leader that he was taking Kensi home.

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><p>Kensi turned the light on as she entered her condo, then carefully began pulling her light knit sweater off. Sore muscles made it a slow process, and Deeks helped her trail the sweater down her arms without hurting her too much. He tossed it to one side, not paying attention to where it landed—Kensi certainly never did—then followed her to the couch. She sat down gingerly on the edge, then slid herself slowly backward until she rested against the back of the sofa. Deeks sat down next to her, eyeing her carefully.<p>

"So. Interesting day, yeah?"

"You know, it really really has been." She kept her tone light to match his. "Who knew I had the power to inspire that kind of passion in a homicidal maniac?"

"Well, I've always suspected you had hidden depths."

There was a comfortable silence for a few moments, then Kensi spoke, more hesitant now.

"I've been wondering. Thinking. I must have…missed something. Some sign, or an indicator. I'm a trained investigator." Frustration colored her voice. "How could I not pick up on a clue that this was going to happen?"

"Maybe there wasn't one. Even homicidal maniacs have to start somewhere." She frowned, dissatisfied with his response, and he kept going. "If there was a sign, we all missed it. And it's not like you were the only one who could have noticed. Callen and Sam have been doing this a lot longer than you have, and they didn't realize he'd tampered with the railing. Nell is an intelligence analyst, and she didn't pick up him locking her in the shower. In fact, the only one who seems to have noticed anything was Eric, and I'm still not sure how he…."

Her face crumpled then, swollen bottom lip quivering, and he stopped. "Oh God, Kens. I'm sorry….did you not know he was the evil mastermind behind all the bad stuff that's happened lately?"

"No, I knew." She sniffled, and both eyes welled with tears. "Like all overly melodramatic super villains, he had to brag about his grandiose schemes while he had me in his super villain clutches."

"Then why…?"

"Because it wasn't just me. He could have killed Nell or Callen or Sam, because they were in the wrong place at the wrong time. That was all directed at me, but they could so easily have gotten caught in the crossfire." Kensi turned to look up him, and as she did so twin tears made tracks down her cheeks. "He would gladly have killed you, because he thought…he thought we were…" She dissolved into sobs, and Deeks couldn't take it any more. Sliding one arm around her shoulders, he pulled her close. She pulled both legs up and curled into him, arms wrapped around him and face nestled back in that same spot that had moved him so before. It seemed meant for her now. He began to murmur to her, one hand cupping the back of her head and the other rubbing slow soothing circles on her back. He was never sure what he said; he thought maybe there were some _there theres_ and some _I've got yous_ and lots of _it's okays_ and _let it all outs_. Either what he said worked or maybe she just eventually cried herself out, but slowly the tears started to slow and and her shoulders relaxed until, with a final soft sigh, she was done.

But he didn't move, and neither did she, and as the afternoon shadows lengthened into evening, the two of them fell into a much-needed and well-deserved sleep.

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><p><strong>Hope you didn't think that was the end! The conversation that still needs to happen between our two lovebirds is much too important to stick on the end of another chapter. I think it deserves an entire chapter to itself or at least an epilogue, don't you?<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

**Author's note: Well this is it! Final full chapter. I have to say that I'm really going to miss this one. I have really enjoyed writing it.**

**Thanks again to all for the encouragement, especially my two muses imahistorian and SunnyCitrus10, who provided invaluable assistance and feedback. :)**

**Disclaimer: I still own nothing despite my very best efforts, and the time has come to return everyone. Even Deeks, I guess. But I've got another little bit of a story stewing around in my head, so I may borrow them again soon. Either an epilogue to this story, or perhaps the start of a new one.**

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><p>For once, Deeks woke first.<p>

It took him a while. There was no reason to rush, not when his dreams were so sweet. Warm, soft arms wrapped around him. The sweet caress of breath sweeping like a whisper across his shoulder. The tickle of satin curls just under his chin. It took some time for him to understand it wasn't a dream. It was real. She was real. Kensi was real, and she was here. And she was safe.

His arms tightened around her, wishing he could keep her here like this. Not forever or anything. That'd be plain creepy. Just for a little while. Maybe a week or three, or a couple of months. Five or six years at the most. He took a deep breath and then exhaled slowly, savoring the sweet scent that had nothing to do with perfume or fragrances but was instead uniquely her own.

The sun had long since set. Deeks couldn't see his watch, but he knew it must be late. The silver moonlight filtering through the tree branches and sheer curtains at the window told him it had to be close to midnight. Not so surprising given the day they'd had, but he knew he needed to wake Kensi up and do a quick check up on her head injury. He began rubbing her shoulders and upper arms briskly. "Kensi? Hey, Kens. I need you to wake up for me."

She didn't move for several long minutes, and he began to worry that he'd let her sleep too long. His voice a little sharp with fear, he shook her shoulders lightly. "Kensi. Come on."

Her voice was low and scratchy, sounding rough and unused when she spoke. "So, Uncle Marty. You want to know another secret?"

He relaxed again back into the cushions. "Always."

"Want to know why I always want to go brother-sister? Or why our covers tend to involve family, and why I didn't want to play honeymooners in romantic Romania?"

Deeks' hands stilled, and he sat there for a moment. Did he want to know? Did he really? He wondered if she could feel the increased pace of his heart belying his casual tone when he said, "Well, Fern, I always just assumed that my awesome hotness was a little too much for you, but if you've got a better reason then by all means feel free to share with the class. After all, I've always said…"

"You were right. You are too much for me." She turned her face into his chest a little more, and goose bumps broke out on the back of his neck as she nestled closer. Her voice was muffled as she continued. "I could play house with Callen or Sam til the end of time, and it's nothing more than a job. I can feel what's real and what isn't, and I understand that I have a job to do. I can kiss Callen or…or make out with Sam and still think about where the mark is in relation to us and how best to approach the suspect to get a drop on him." Her fingers began to play with the buttons of his shirt, circling around and around until he thought he'd go mad except that the sound of her voice had him mesmerized. "But with you…with you, it's so different. When you're close to me, like this, all I can think of is that I want to be even closer. When you put your arms around me, I forget about everything except how good that feels. I sometimes think…" She faltered for a moment. He wanted to reassure her, but he had a feeling if he spoke he'd frighten her into closing up again. She was so rarely this open with him, or anyone else for that matter. Instead he began threading his fingers through her tangled curls, smoothing her hair down her back with gentle caresses. After a silence so long he was afraid she was finished, she began to speak again, voice barely audible. "I sometimes think a gunman could walk up and put a gun to my head, and so long as you were there filling my vision I'd never even notice. Or worse yet, a gunman could walk up and put a gun to your head, and I…I wouldn't be able to help you."

"Kensi," he murmured, but she didn't stop.

"When I'm with you, sometimes I don't know myself. I don't act like the me that I'm used to. And it's scary." Her fingers were trembling now, and he put his hand over hers, steadying it. He pulled her hand up and put a gentle kiss on one knuckle, then another, before laying her hand over his heart under his own. "I don't feel like Kensi. I get jealous and…and stupid and _girly_ sometimes. I don't even know me. And that's why I don't like to play house with you."

Deeks was silent for a moment, pondering her words. His voice was soft when he finally spoke. "Okay. My turn.

He never failed to surprise her. "Your…what are you talking about?"

"It's Uncle Marty's turn to tell a secret." He could feel her smile against his chest, and an answering smile bloomed on his own face. "You want to know why I broke my rule for you?"

"The female partners thing?"

"Yep." He began to toy with her fingers. "You see, I don't know myself with you either. With my other partners—the female ones, I mean—I was always trying something. Trying to get in their pants, or trying to get in their friends' pants. And I usually did—OW," she'd pinched him, "Ow, Kens!—or got close, and then things got awkward. And eventually either I'd request a change of partner, or she would. Even with Traynor I'd gotten to the awkward and was heading right on in to, 'Please, Lieutenant, may I have another?' I mean, once you've done the horizontal mambo…"

"There _is_ a point to this story. Right?" Her tone was very, very dry, and he decided discretion was the better part of valor.

"Well anyway, with you it's different. You're different."

"Because you never tried to get into my pants?" He thought he detected a hint of hurt in her tone.

"Because of how much I really wanted to. Because of how much _more_ I wanted with you." He turned his head and placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. "The first time I saw you in that gym I knew you were different. But I could never have guessed just how much you were going to mean to me. And because you meant so much, I didn't want to play all those games with you. Instead I found myself watching you. Watching how you and the guys interacted. Watching you at work, and watching you work a mark. And I was…I was entranced, Kensi. Enchanted. I found myself wanting to be a better cop. I found a new me, and it was a me that I liked. And a me that was liked. And that's why I broke my own rule about female partners for you."

He gave her a moment to absorb all that, then poked her gently under her ribs. "Now….your turn."

She curled a little, laughing, and he tickled her once more before letting his hand settle on her back. "I already told you a secret, Deeks."

"And I told you one, too. Now it's your turn again."

She sighed, letting herself relax a little more fully against him. "Well, I guess I could tell you about the second worst memory of my life."

"The first being your dad's murder."

She nodded against his chest. "It was awful. You know…I've told you some of it. How abandoned I felt. How lost I was without him. How I was so angry, and so sad all at the same time. That was the absolute worst. The second worst was when you…when you were…"

"Shot?" he whispered gently. "Being at the hospital, being reminded of what it was like with your dad…"

"No, that's not it. It's when…when I thought you were fired." Deeks closed his own eyes against the shaft of pain he felt at her words, listening as she continued. "When you were shot, it was bad. It did remind me of my dad. But I knew that you were coming back to me. And I could sit there in the hospital with you, and talk with you, and run security for you. I could help. I could do something."

"But when you were fired." She swallowed hard. "It was…it was like you couldn't shake the dust off fast enough. You were just walking away, abandoning me like my dad did, and I felt that same horrible combination of anger and grief and helplessness."

"Kensi." He put all the apology and regret and love he could into her name. She finally raised her head and met his eyes.

"No, that's not why I'm telling you. I don't want to hurt you. The part I want you to understand is why it hurt so much, and why I felt it so strongly." She reached out one hand and laid it on his jaw. "It was because for the second time in my life the single most important person in the world, the one person I cared about more than anyone else, was leaving me." She waited until understanding bloomed in his gaze, then smiled and laid her head down on his chest once more.

"Now. Your turn."

"What? Me again?"

"You made me tell two. C'mon, Deeks. Spill already."

He was silent for a moment, considering the events of the week. If nothing else, he'd come to realize just how much she meant to him. Along with that realization came the understanding that he was walking the edge of a very steep cliff, caught between 'partners' and 'something more'. And 'partners' just wasn't enough any more.

Taking a deep breath, he willing stepped off the edge of the cliff. "Okay, but this is one I told you already."

She frowned. "No cheating."

"I'm not cheating. I'm pretty sure you missed the best part." He smiled at the memory. "You were….well, I believe the technical term is 'hammered."

"Ah. Princess Fern." She turned carefully, trying to find a more comfortable spot. "I remember bits and pieces. But not so much the end."

"That's because you passed out."

She sniffed audibly. "I so did not pass out. I took a much-needed nap."

"Nap? Ha! If that was a nap, then I'm Brad Pitt. Only better looking."

"Whatever, Brad. Just get on with the secret-telling, would you? Because I'm not getting any younger here, and…"

"I love you." She froze at the words, spoken in a softer, more tender tone than she'd ever heard him use. "That's what the end of the story was. Or that's what it meant, anyway." She still hadn't moved, and he continued, suddenly nervous. "Only in the story, I didn't know quite how you'd respond. Still don't, if it comes to that. I guess I've been thinking that you would maybe say something or perhaps respond in some way."

But even having said that, he was surprised by her next move. She leaned up on her elbows and laid her lips on his, kissing him hungrily. He tried to tell himself to take it easy, tried to remember that she was injured, her face still bruised, but she would have none of it. With a hungry moan she pulled herself forward, then grasped his face in both hands and deepened the kiss. He slanted his head, lips moving with hers, losing himself in the taste and the feel of her. The rest of the world disappeared, and there was only her and him and this moment together. He let himself sink into the kiss completely, using one hand at the small of her back to anchor her to him, while the other stroked hair and back and shoulder and any other part of her he could reach.

After an eternity, or perhaps a few moments, her hands stroked his cheeks softly, and she pulled back. Her eyes opened slowly, and she met a bemused blue gaze.

"Kens?" he whispered.

The promise in her eyes warmed him all the way through. The words were easier to say than she'd ever dreamed they could be.

"Princess Fern loves you too."


	11. Epilogue

**Author's note: I originally intended this to be ****just a ****teensy bit of an epilogue, but then Deeks and Kensi wanted a little more beach time than I had planned. And after all they'd been through, I thought they deserved it.:)**_  
><em>

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><p><em>One month later<em>

Kensi inhaled slowly, absorbing the smells of sand and salty air and coconut-scented sunscreen. Smells that had become all too familiar over the past few weeks. At first it had only been at Hetty's insistence and dogged determination in the face of Kensi's very vocal protests that had forced her here. She hadn't wanted any time off, hadn't wanted to be out of the office or missing out on any ops or having the guys go out without her. But then Hetty had decreed that Deeks was in charge of Kensi's enforced rest and recuperation period, and Kensi had swallowed any further arguments after seeing the light in his eyes. And over the first few days she'd allowed herself to relax and enjoy herself in a way she hadn't done in years. There were definite perks to spending her days at the beach, and she could truthfully say she was going to miss it when she returned to the mission the following day.

One of those perks was out there now, surfing his happy little heart out unless she missed her guess. She'd spent hours watching him, eyes following every curve of his muscle and twist of his torso as he rode the crests like a Greek god. He was so beautiful in motion that it actually made her chest hurt sometimes. And she knew she wasn't the only one watching. He attracted more than his fair share of female attention, and she was torn between being proud that he was hers and wanting to walk around punching all the women eyeing him like fresh meat. In fact, the reason she was currently laying in the sun with oversized sunglasses covering her eyes was that she'd found herself on her feet with both hands fisted heading towards a redhead with a particularly lascivious gleam in her eye. Getting arrested for assault and battery was definitely not something Hetty would approve. Or for which she'd pay bail, mostly likely.

Just then a shadow moved over her, and her lips curved into a warm smile. "Hey," she murmured without opening her eyes.

"Hey," Deeks responded, dropping onto the oversized beach towel next to her. He shook his head like a dog, vigorously spraying her with ice-cold water droplets. "Deeks!" she squealed, opening her eyes as she sat straight up, brushing ineffectively at the moisture causing goose bumps on unprotected skin. He grinned at her unrepentantly.

"Good. I was hoping you were awake."

"Well, if I wasn't I am now." She pouted just a bit. "That was really cold."

"Aw, come on, Fern." He slid a little closer, laying his chin on the edge of her shoulder. "You're not really mad at me, are you?"

She shrugged her shoulder, half-heartedly trying to dislodge him. "I might be."

"Well." He cocked his head to one side. "I guess I'll have to do something about that."

"Oh yeah?" She turned her head, her lips now a breath away from his. "What exactly were you thinking you might do?"

"Oh, I don't know." He let his hand trail down her other shoulder, tracing all the way down her arm and causing a different sort of shiver to run down her spine. "I could…" he whispered, kissing the side of her neck softly, "try to make it up to you, I guess." He kissed just under her jaw, then nipped softly at her earlobe.

She sighed, then angled her head, allowing him better access. "I guess I could let you do that. For the sake of the team and all."

"Or I could do something different."

"Something like…?"

With a last sharp nip, he stood up quickly. "Oh, like this." And before she could respond, he had pulled her up and over his shoulder. She pinched and poked and kicked, putting up a token resistance, but he held her easily. He spanked her lightly, laughing at her squeals and protests, then began a march down toward the water. "Come on, woman! It's time for you to get a lot wetter."

And amidst those squeals and protests, she allowed herself one triumphant smirk at the redhead. _See this? All mine._

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><p>The two of them splashed and played in the ocean like a couple of school kids skipping class until the angle of the sun signaled the end of the day. With a sigh of regret, Kensi packed up the towels and picnic supplies while Deeks gathered his surfing equipment. Hands clasped and fingers intertwined, they carried everything back down the beach towards Kensi's car.<p>

"You ready to go back tomorrow?"

"I'm fine, Deeks. And I really mean that."

He smiled, thinking of all the times he'd heard that and not believed it. Looking at her now, healthy and strong, all golden skin and glowing eyes, it was easy to see that she was. There was a part of him that wished they could go on like this forever, two beach babies living for nothing but sand and surf, never having to worry about guns or explosions or whether or not crazy murderous chem analysts were fixated on your partner. But he also knew how much the job meant to Kensi, and how much she'd missed the guys. And if he was honest, he knew he'd missed them too. Not that he'd ever admit it.

"How about you?" A smile played about her lips as they reached the car. "Are you going to miss spending your days out here enjoying sand and surf?"

"Well I'm not going to deny that I've had some serious good times playing beach bum for the last four weeks, but…" He lifted the hatch on the back of the car, then began loading all their belongings, "it's possible that was due to the delectable company I've been keeping. And since I've heard she's going back to work tomorrow too, I'm hoping…"

"For a little hanky panky between assignments?"

"Well, that, sure. Goes without saying." He closed the hatch, then leaned against it, grinning at Kensi. "I've been trying to get that for years, and without much success, I've got to say."

She cocked her head, her tone sympathetic. "Aw, poor baby. Sam won't put out?"

"Ha ha, funny girl. For that I get to…" Kensi had already turned toward the passenger door, and the keys she'd tossed behind her dropped neatly into his hands. "…drive."

There was little traffic on the road to Kensi's place, although to be accurate it was more their place than hers now. He had his own drawer in the dresser and a small section in the closet, and his toothbrush rested next to hers in the surprisingly feminine pink floral cup on her vanity. And more significantly, he spent most nights there. Her place was smaller than his, and not as close to the beach, but he knew she was more comfortable with her own stuff, and he was fine wherever she was. Even Monty seemed happy with the new arrangement. He had a running battle going on with the neighbor's cat, and he'd vigorously defended Kensi's back yard from all encroachers.

Deeks pulled into the little driveway, then killed the car's engine. They both sat there without moving, watching as a glorious sunset filled the sky with brilliant shades of pink and orange. Deeks thought he'd never felt more at peace in his entire life.

"What did I ever do to deserve this?" He wasn't completely aware he'd spoken out loud, but he turned to look into her eyes. "What did I do to deserve you?"

She smiled softly, shaking her head. "I don't know if either of us earned it. I don't know if you can." She leaned over and kissed him softly, savoring the taste of his lips and the feel of his scruff beneath her hands, then she slowly leaned back, her gaze luminous.

"Maybe we just got really really lucky."


End file.
